


Kin no Shuichi (Golden Shuichi)

by chochowilliams



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Angst, Characters Death, Drama, Infidelity, M/M, Male Slash, Original Characters - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 83,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chochowilliams/pseuds/chochowilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuichi's life is flipped upside down when an old childhood friend comes asking for a favor. Could this be the end for Bad Luck?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Gravitation Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of drabbles that evolve around a storyline that slowly reveals itself. Chapters will be short.

**Kin no Shuichi**  
 **Written by:** Chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Gravitation_ or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Things were good. Or so Shuichi thought, but one mistake by Eiri could throw everything they’ve worked so heard for out the window.  
 **Chapter Summary:** It’s Christmas and Shuichi wonders why they’ve never celebrated it.  
 **Story Warnings:** M/M, Romance, Angst, Drama, Language, Infidelity, Original Characters  
 **Pairings:** Shuichi/Eiri, implied Eiri/OFC, implied Shuichi/OMC  
 **A/N:** This is a series of one-shots that evolve around a storyline. Hope you enjoy it.

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 1: A Gravitation Christmas**

“Hey, Yuki?" called Shuichi from the breakfast bar early one evening. He was sitting on one of the brand new bar stools in their newly renovated kitchen with his chin resting on his cupped hands. His slippered feet swung freely. Violet eyes watched his golden eyed lover move about with practiced ease. It bewildered Shuichi how Eiri could do a hundred different things at once and keep it all straight. If it were him, he would have burnt something, broke something, completely screwed up some basic technique even a mentally challenged individual could do in his sleep. Not to mention, he would have cut and/or burnt himself numerous times.

“Nn,” was Eiri’s non-committal reply.

“Why don’t we celebrate Christmas?”

The question startled Eiri. He blinked at his pink-haired idiot in surprise. “What?”

Shuichi glanced briefly at the steak Eiri was frying in the non-stick fry pan. His mouth starting watering. It looked so good. If it wasn’t for Eiri, he probably would have gone hungry by now. A man could only go so far on pocky and ramen. “Christmas.”

“What brought this on?” Eiri asked curiously, turning back to the steak. Out of the corner of his eyes, he checked the rice cooker. It was still streaming. A quick check of the time assured him that the rice should be done any time now. The vegetables still needed to be cooked, but they would take only a couple of minutes.

“Well, you know that easy rock station that plays Christmas music for like a month before Christmas? Well,” Shuichi continued without bothering to wait for a reply, “they started earlier than usual this year and all the stores have their Christmas stuff out and little Chiori was at the studio the other day and she was telling me what she was asking Santa for and it got me thinking-“

“So that was what that smell was,” Eiri interrupted with a smirk.

Shuichi glared at his writer lover’s back. Then glanced about. Nothing. It was too bad. He really wanted something to chuck at Eiri’s head. Bastard. Pulling at his eye, he stuck out his tongue. He than squealed when a semi-frozen piece of broccoli whacked his forehead. “Ow,” he whined, rubbing his head.

Eiri snorted. “Baka.”

With one last scowl, Shuichi tossed the frozen vegetables into the trash can. Yes! Three points! He was amazed it even made it.

Sighing, he turned back to watch Eiri tip the pan over the butcher block cutting board set on the counter before him. The steak, well-done knowing Eiri, slid out with ease. Shuichi’s stomach growled. Blushing, he laid a hand over his stomach. It felt like it was imploding. God, he was hungry.

“What was Chiori doing at the studio?” Eiri returned the pan the stove, setting it on an empty back burner. Then ripping open a bag of frozen stir fry vegetables with his teeth, dumped the entire bag into the wok.

Chiori was the only child of Mika and Tohma. The three-year old was spoiled beyond belief. She was also quite a talker, much like her uncle Shuichi. Or would that be “aunt”?

“Uh? Oh, uhm, I guess she and Ms. Mika were taking Mr. Seguchi out to lunch, because Mr. Seguchi’s such a work-aholic that he tends to forget to eat but when they showed up he was in a meeting so Ms. Mika brought Chiori down to visit while they waited.”

It always amazed Eiri that Shuichi could manage to say so much with one breath. But then again, the brat was a singer after all. With his astonishing lung capacity, anything was possible. With a devilishly sly glint in his eyes, Eiri smirked.

“She wants this Barbie make-up head thingy.”

Eiri rolled her eyes as he dumped the vegetables into the waiting bowl. He carried it to the breakfast bar and set it before Shuichi. Picking up a knife, he began slicing the steak into thin strips.

Shuichi raised his gaze from the mouthwatering steak to Eiri’s face and then back down. He fiddled with his hands in his lap nervously. “Eiri?” he called cautiously.

Eiri sighed. Finished chopping the steak, he moved the strips of meat onto a platter already on the bar besides the vegetables. “Shu…”

“Please, Eiri?”

Raising his head, against his better judgment, he met hose large tear filled eyes and that trembling lower lip jutting out in a pout and cursed at the power of his baka’s cuteness. “Shu…Why? We’ve never celebrated it before…We’re not even Christian.” Weak response, but still true.

Shuichi dropped his gaze. He slumped down in disappointment.

Heaving a disgusted sigh, Eiri went to check on the rice. It was finally done. Grabbing a spoon out of the drawer, he scooped out the rice and transferred it to a second bowl which he brought to the counter and sat down next to the others.

It was not exactly true that they did not celebrate Christmas, but neither did they actually celebrate it. Maybe if they had children it would be different. As it were, they exchanged gifts with friends and relatives and even bought each other a present or two, but there was no tree, no lights, no mistletoe waiting to ambush him, no garland, no stockings hung by the chimney with care and since they were Buddhist and not Christian, there certainly were no figurines representing the birth of Christ. It just was not a holiday Eiri particularly cared for. In his opinion, the whole thing was overrated. Eiri studied his depressed lover as the singer listlessly dug into the white rice he had drowned in soy sauce. Christmas may just be an over commercialized fiasco, but if it was that important to Shuichi…

“I’ll think about it.”

Shuichi’s head snapped up, surprise was written clearly across his face. Then a wide grin slowly appeared. “Really?” Without waiting for a reply, Shuichi tossed his chopsticks down and threw his hands into the air. Hopping off the stool, which tipped and fell over, clattering noisily against the travertine tiled floor, Shuichi began jumping up and down shouting ludicrously. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“I only said I’d think about it,” Eiri tried to say above the migraine inducing din.

“Oh, thank you Eiri!” Shuichi gushed, turning towards his lover with hearts in his eyes and his hands clasped before him. He leapt around the counter and standing up on his tiptoes, quickly gave Eiri a peck on the lips. “I love you!” Then he went skipping out of the kitchen. “This means we need to go buy a tree. Maybe Ma’ll know where to get one? Then there’s lights and tinsel and garland and mistletoe and I can have Hiro drop me off at my place to pick up my ornaments and things and…”

Shuichi continued to prattle on as he made his way across the house to his home studio where he left his cellphone. The door shutting behind him cut him off mid-sentence.

Apparently Eiri’s warning that he had not agreed to celebrate Christmas, but had in fact agreed to merely think about them celebrating the holiday had not penetrated Shuichi’s thick skull.

Eiri sighed heavily. What had he gotten himself into?

 

**...To Be Continued...**

 


	2. Only Idiots Catch Colds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During some time off, Shuichi gets worried about how much he has been pigging out.

**Chapter 2: Only Idiots Catch Colds**

His screams shattered the peaceful silence that had settled over the apartment. Knowing it had been too good to be true, Eiri sat back with a heavy sigh. Slipping off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his hazel eyes golden like the sun against a looming headache that was threatening to split his head in two.

“Yuki!”

Eiri winced. Here it comes, he thought as he set his glasses on his desk and out of harms way. He pushed his chair back towards the wall. How he could have possibly fallen in love with a bi-polar, energetic, depression-prone moron who just so happened to have the voice of an angel and the body of a god was beyond him. “Three…two…one,” he mentally counted.

Right on cue, the door to his study, which Eiri could have sworn he locked, burst open and his pink-haired partner streaked in and latched himself around his waist.

“Yuki,” whined his brat.

Sighing, Eiri pat Shuichi’s head. “What is it this time?” He knew more than anyone, Shuichi needed what little down time Bad Luck got. The last thing anybody needed was for Shuichi to collapse from exhaustion. That would put Bad Luck on hiatus for an undetermined length of time, which would not make for very good business for NG Productions. Unless that is, Hiro and Suguru decided to hire a new lead singer for the band to replace Shuichi. Knowing his brother-in-law, Eiri would not put it passed him to do something so deviant. But while this down time was necessary, at the same time the singer was causing Eiri to go through his medicine a lot quicker than normal. So, why did he continually put up with the migraines and ulcers and the plain annoyance that was currently squeezing the life out of him?

Shuichi large violet eyes were swimming in tears. Snot was drooling from his nose. His lower lips jutted out. His chin trembled.

He would not admit it, but in that moment Eiri’s heart skipped a beat. It took everything he had to keep from dissolving into a puddle of goo. Damn brat, he cursed silently. Steeling himself, Eiri pried Shuichi off him. Or tried to. Shuichi was like a bad rash. “Idiot! Get off. You’re getting my shirt dirty.”

“B-but Yuki!”

Eiri rolled his eyes. I need a cigarette, he thought. He inched his gaze towards the far side of his desk where his pack of smokes and lighter with its printed sticker of Shuichi and him from their first date sat. Just out of reach. Son of a bitch.

The headache was getting worse.

“But what?” Eiri snapped impatiently. “I’ve got to finish this blasted chapter. I don’t have time to put up with your crap.”

A tear rolled down Shuichi’s misery masked face. His chin was trembling violently. It reminded Eiri of how aggressively their bed was shaking this morning. He smirked smugly at the thought. It gave him a few ideas that had his jeans feeling uncomfortably snug.

“T-the, t-the…” Shuichi stuttered, pointing over his shoulder.

This was getting old. “The what?”

“The s-scale…”

Whatever else he was trying to say was lost amongst sobs, but Eiri could not live with and worship Shuichi’s lithe, sexy body day after day without picking up a few things. So even though he could not understand the insistent ramblings, Eiri did get the gist. Basically, their bathroom scale was broken.

“Bullshit. It’s brand new.”

“B-but Yu~ki…!”

“But what?’ Eiri bit.

Shuichi cowered under Eiri’s intense anger.

Eiri sighed and tried to reign in his temper. “What makes you think the scale is broken?” he asked in a more calm tone of voice.

With tears streaming down his face, Shuichi explained nearly incoherently, “I went to weigh myself because I’ve been pigging out these last few weeks because Mr. Seguchi gave us some time off because he said we’ve been working so hard and when I went to weigh myself the scale said…”

His voice trailed off into sniffles.

“Said what?” Eiri prodded gently. It amazed and surprised him that he understood every single word of that rambling monologue.

“It said I was fa~a~at!” Shuichi dissolved into a torrent of tears.

The corner of Eiri’s lips twitched in amusement. Cocking an eyebrow, he regarded his hysterical lover. “You? Fat?” The brat, as the saying went, was as thin as a rail. If Shuichi turned sideways, he disappeared. Being not only as hyperactive as a child with ADHD on a sugar high, but also having an unnaturally high metabolism, there was no problem of Shuichi ever becoming fat. A sudden thought stilled Eiri. His eyes narrowed. He studied Shuichi a new. “If you broke that thing, I swear to God…!” Knowing Shuichi, Eiri would not put it passed him. All Shuichi had to do was touch something and the damned thing broke. It was like a curse.

Shuichi’s face crumbled. His loud wails filled the tiny space.

Eiri swore he was going to go deaf before he reached thirty. Sighing, he massaged his temples as his head continued to pound. It felt like a drum solo was beating inside his head.

Pushing out of his chair, Eiri stepped around his blubbering mess of a lover and out of the study. He made his way down the hall to the bathroom.

Scrambling to his feet, Shuichi scurried after him.

Eiri strode across the travertine tiled dressing room towards the scale located in the corner across from the toilet. Crouching, he picked up the scale and studied it carefully. It did not look broken. But then again looks could be deceiving. Setting the scale back down, he glanced over his shoulder at Shuichi who was standing in the doorway with his head bowed and gnawing on the hem of his shirt with a mixture of emotions playing across his face.

Eiri crooked his finger at the younger man. “Shu,” he called standing up.

Hesitantly, Shuichi dropped his shirt. There was a wet spot where he had been nibbling. Shuichi gulped and took a deep breath before starting towards Eiri. Fear was outlined on Shuichi’s face and shinned in his eyes. He stopped before Eiri with his head bowed. Playing with the wet hem of his shirt, he studied his slippered feet against the speckled tile floor.

Eiri hated it when Shuichi acted do submissive. It made him feel like a tyrant. “Get on it,” he ordered.

Without question, Shuichi stepped around Eiri and onto the scale.

Sighing, Eiri crouched back down and pressed the button on the side to activate the scale. Immediately, a red blinking light appeared and raced around the screen. It took several moments, but finally numbers appeared. Three numbers. Eiri frowned.

“See! See!” Shuichi shouted, pointing at the evil contraption. “It’s either broken…” His lower lip started trembling. Tears filled his eyes. His voice broke. “Or I’m fat!”

Grabbing the scale. Eiri yanked it out from under his lover, which sent the singer flying back onto his backside. Turning it over, Eiri studied the bottom of the device. Immediately he saw the problem. Idiot, he thought. Rectifying the problem, Eiri then set the scale back down and got to his feet. “There. Try it now.”

Shuichi looked skeptically at Eiri, but complied. Once again, the red cursor blinked to life and chased itself around the screen. Only this time, the outcome was much different. Instead of three red numbers flashing onto the small screen, there were only two. Violet eyes went wide. Shuichi gasped. “Yuki,” he whispered in awe and wonder. “You fixed it!” Clasping his hands together, he turned towards Eiri with hearts in his eyes, but Eiri was already starting out the door.

“No, I didn’t,” Eiri denied. “You had the damn thing on pounds.” Then he was gone.

Shuichi stared after him in confusion. Pounds? He glanced down at the sleeping scale. It hadn’t been on kilograms? How in the world-? Then it hit him. “Maiko.” His baby sister had been over visiting the other day with her American pen pal who had come to Japan for a visit for a few weeks. She must have changed it and forgot to change it back. A rush of relief swept through Shuichi. So this meant he wasn’t fat? And he was not responsible for breaking something else? A laugh bubbled up inside of him. “Yahoo!” he shouted.

Eiri shook his head with an amused chuckle as Shuichi’s exclamation echoed down the hall. Stepping into the study, he shut the door behind him. It really was too bad the brat was just an idiot. He had been looking forward to punishing his Pink Devil for breaking the scale. Though if Shuichi had, by some strange flip of a coin, put on a little weight, it would have been a lot of fun trying to get him to shed all that unnecessary weight.

“Oh, well.”

…But then again…

He turned towards the closed study door with a sly smirk. A loudly singing Shuichi passed by. The song did not sound familiar. But by the time he was finished with Shuichi, the brat would be singing the old classic that they both knew so well.

 

**...To Be Continued...**


	3. That Sweet Lil’ Badonkadonk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiri comes home to a sweet little surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inserted: “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk” by Trace Atkins

**Chapter 3: That Sweet Lil’ Badonkadonk**

As soon as he emerged from the elevator, he could hear it. “What the fuck?” Heaving a disgusted sigh, Eiri dug out his keys as he marched the short distance to the condo he shared with his long time boyfriend. Why Shuichi could not listen to his music at a decent level was beyond him. The brat was only twenty-two but at this rate, hearing loss was just around the corner. If the person besides you could hear every lyric emanating from your ipod, the volume was too high. This concept apparently never made it through Shuichi’s thick skull. Of course, that did not surprise Eiri.

Eiri pulled up short when the door swung open just as he went to slip his key into the lock. A scowl crossed his face. He growled. That damned brat! He left the door open! He swore Shuichi would forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his neck. But then again, it wasn’t like this was the first time and it wasn’t likely to be the last. There was always the option of taking Shuichi’s key away, but that would only cause more problems and would not solve the current problem of keeping the door locked. With a light sigh, Eiri stepped into the condo and shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it. It always seemed to be one thing after another. He tossed his keys, wallet and cellphone into the container sitting on the table by the front door. Shrugging out of his jacket, he hung it up in the closet and switched his shoes for his house slippers.

As he walked out of the foyer and stepped around the corner, he stopped dead. There in the middle of the living room, dancing idiotically, albeit a bit sensuously, around the coffee table and using his hair brush as a microphone was Shuichi. Other than the smallest, tightest pair of shorts he had ever seen, his pink haired baka was covered in nothing but sweat that glistened across his lithe, toned body. The erotic sight had Eiri’s pants feeling a little on the tight side.

But what the hell is he listening to?

**…swing along**   
**Got it goin’ on**   
**Like Donkey Kong**   
**And whoo-wee**   
**Shut my mouth, slap your grandma**   
**There outta be a law**   
**Get the sheriff on the phone**   
**Lord have mercy, how’s she even get them britches on**   
**That honky tonk badonkadonk**

“’Lord have mercy’ is right.”

Shuichi spun around with a startled gasp, clasping his hands around his neck. The brush clattered to the floor. “Yuki!”

“Baka what are you doing?”

“…Uh…well…you see…”

Crossing the Great Room, Eiri turned off the stereo and then turned to face a fiercely blushing Shuichi. He raked his gaze lustfully down his singer’s scantily clad body. “And just what are you wearing?” Or not as the case may be.

“Huh?” Shuichi blinked blankly. He gazed down at himself. “Aah!” He had completely forgotten that he was basically in what amounted to as his underwear. God, how embarrassing! Not that Eiri hasn’t seen it all thousands of times by now, but still. “Oh, uhm, well…” His face as red as a tomato, Shuichi gazed up at his lover through lowered lashes. “Do you…like it?” he asked. He twirled to give Eiri a better view.

Eiri let his gaze roam over his lover. His pants became that much more snug. “Come here,” he barked. His voice was thick and did not sound like his own. How can someone who seems so innocent play the vixen and get him so horny?

Shuichi danced out of Eiri’s reach, laughing, “Uh uh!”

“Damned brat,” Eiri growled.

Giggling, Shuichi shook his head and continued to dance away from an advancing Eiri. His eyes flashed mischievously.

Not looking were he was going, Shuichi tripped over the end table. With a yelp, he flailed his arms as he tumbled over backwards. He landed sprawled flat on his back.

Eiri took the opportunity to pounce.

Shuichi’s squeals soon turned to moans as he was tasted and teased and played with late into the evening.

 

**...To Be Continued...**


	4. The Words Never Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi is fed up with Eiri making time for everyone else but him.

**Chapter 4: The Words Never Said**

Eiri wasn’t home when Shuichi returned from the studio just before lunch. He had been hoping that the two of them could go out together. Except for that date to Odaiba Amusement Park after Bad Luck’s debut album, Gravity, reached one million copies in sales, the two of them had not really gone out. While on some level that fact was disheartening, Shuichi tried to not let it affect him too much because the truth of the matter was, both he and Eiri were so busy. But still…

The condominium was cold and lonely. The stark white walls started to press down around him.

Where could be he? Eiri didn’t have any doctor appointments. Not that Shuichi knew of anyway. None with his optometrist, primary care physician, therapist or that internal-gastro-whatever doctor he sees. Maybe he finished his latest book early and went to see Misuki? It wouldn’t be the first time. Or it could be that he went out for a walk? Eiri did that in order to clear his head from time to time. It was actually how the two of them met. But no matter where he went, Eiri always left a note. Or at least he did nowadays. It was in response to those times when Eiri just up and left him without a word. If Eiri left the house for any reason, he left a note in order to avoid coming home to a depression eaten lump of snot. So what was going on? What changed? Where was Eiri? A thought calmed the rising panic.

Racing back to the foyer, he dug through his messenger bag for his Blackberry Storm and checked his messages. His hope died a quick, but painful death when there were no text messages or voicemails waiting for him.

Defeated, Shuichi slumped down onto the floor.

He was not sure how long he sat there in a daze when his ears perked up at the sound of approaching feet. “Yuki,” he cried as he threw himself at his golden haired, golden eyed lover when the older man stepped into the condominium.

With an extra hundred pounds strapped around his waist, Eiri staggered backwards out into the hall and flopped flat on his ass. He sighed as his baka ranted and raved and cursed him out. The only thing Eiri could do was sigh tiredly. Here we go again, he thought. This was old the first time Shuichi pulled it. “Baka get off,” he barked.

“Not until you tell me where you went,” Shuichi snapped back.

Heaving a disgusted sigh, Eiri got to his feet and dumped Shuichi onto the ground.

“Eiri,” Shuichi whined.

Ignoring him, Eiri stepped around his pink haired idiot into the condo.

“Eiri!”

“Out Shuichi! I went out,” Eiri snapped. He slammed his wallet down on the table harder than he intended. Spinning around, he glared at Shuichi.

With his hands on his hips, he feet planted a shoulder’s width apart, Shuichi returned Eiri’s angry stare with one of his own. “Out where?”

“What does it matter?”

“Because you didn’t leave a note!”

Eiri was exasperated. This is what this was all about? For the love of the Almighty. Why did he care so much for an idiot? “So the fuck what?”

“Something might’ve happened to you. That’s so the fuck what! And you know what?”

Eiri rolled his eyes and turned his back on the idiot with the overactive imagination.

“Hey! Don’t you walk away from me!” Shuichi stormed into the house, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the picture on the wall besides the door. He raced through the foyer and turned into the kitchen to find Eiri making a fresh pot of coffee. “Are you going to tell me where you were? Or not?”

“Not.”

Shuichi clenched his hands into fists. “Why not? Why won’t you tell me?”

Eiri remained silent as he moved about the kitchen. What he did in his free time had nothing to do with Shuichi. They may be lovers, but that did not give Shuichi the right to act like his mother.

A sudden thought made Shuichi go cold. Could it be…? Was Eiri…? Shuichi refused to believe it, but what other option was there? If Eiri refused to explain why he wasn’t home when Shuichi got here, then that meant the reason was not some innocent explanation. “That’s it, isn’t it?” he spoke softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. His hands were shaking. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“What? What are you mumbling about now?” Eiri wanted to know, feeling his annoyance growing.

Golden eyes locked onto his baka’s face. Eiri felt his heart ache at the sight. But then right before his eyes, before he could completely understand what was going on, the mask of sorrow vanished. Even though the hurt was still there, an aura of anger enveloped Shuichi.

“Who is she?” Shuichi demanded.

Eiri blinked. His mind went blank. “’She’? She who? What’re you going on about?”

“Her,” Shuichi snapped. “The bimbo you’re screwing!”

Eiri went still.

“Who is she?” Shuichi’s voice had dropped dangerously low. It trickled out through gritted teeth in a deep guttural growl. “Tell me who she is so I can drop kick her sorry ass into the netherworld.”

Was Shuichi…jealous? The idea was ridiculous, ludicrous even. But knowing what kind of personality his baka suffered from, it was not too farfetched. “Shu, there is no ‘she’, okay?”

Shuichi narrowed his eyes. “Don’t give me that crap.”

“What? You want me to have cheated on you?” Eiri barked. He could never win with him!

“Of course not! I just want the truth goddammit!”

“Fine! I was with Seguchi. Satisfied?”

Shuichi was thrown by the startling confession. With…Seguchi? His thoughts started chasing one another around, making it difficult to determine just what it was that he had been told and how it made him feel. “You…?”

“He took me out for brunch.”

Slowly, Shuichi’s thoughts began to de-entangle and clarify.

“Despite everything, he is my friend ya know.”

Shuichi opened his mouth, but when he could not think of anything to say, he shut it. He felt like an idiot for not believing I Eiri. He should have known better. Yes, at the beginning of their relationship, he may have started out as just one of many, but as time went on, all the others vanished one by one until it was just him. They have been together going on three years now and Eiri has made a solid commitment to him, to them. He promised.

But…

“Why?’ he whispered.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Eiri turned around to regard Shuichi. He took in his hurt expression, the agony. “Why what?” He was tired of this crap.

“Why him?”

Eiri was lost. “’Why him’ what?”

Shuichi’s head snapped up. His violet eyes flashed angrily. “Why is it you always make time for him and not for me? I’m your common law partner and yet you ignore me! To you I’m nothing more than a toilet! A hole to fuck when you’re horny! But him…!” His voice broke. His vision blurred behind the weight of tears. “You always make time for not only Mr. Seguchi, but for everyone else who wants a piece of you, including your fans, but what about me?!”

“What about you?” Eiri asked in disgust.

Shuichi’s eyes flew open in shock with a gasp. “Yuki…you jerk!” He reached out and grabbed the first thing that met his hand. It turned out to be the antique crystal pepper shaker that he had bought a year back at an antique’s fair they had gone to together. But Shuichi was blind with rage and his chest hurt from the crack that was ever widening in his heart. He brought his hand back and whipped the pepper shaker at Eiri’s head as hard as he could.

With a sound curse, Eiri dropped to the floor. His hands flew over his head.

The hundred-year-old pepper shaker shattered a mere foot above his heads. Pieces rained down on him.

“I hate you!”

Cautiously, Eiri peered out. He was surrounded by an ocean of crystal shards. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! That thing was expensive!”

“Oh! Yes. Yes! Let’s worry about some stupid pepper shaker, but not poor Shuichi!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Eiri mumbled.

“I hate you! I hate your guts!”

Eiri sighed.

“I hope you drop dead!” With tears gushing down his already tear logged face, Shuichi tore out of the kitchen with a sob.

Eiri ran his fingers through his hair. He heaved a heavy sigh when the front door opened and then closed.

“I hate you!”

But I am in love with you, Eiri thought as he leaned back against the counter, pushing a hand through his hair. God, he was such a fool.

That was it.

Shoving away from the counter, he dumped his coffee down the drain and set his mug in the sink, then he crossed towards the phone. His fingers danced over the buttons. “Hey, it’s me,” he spoke into the receiver. “I need you to do something for me.”

 

**...To Be Continued...**


	5. If I Say Things Like I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiri screwed up, big time. Now he was to find a way to make it up to Shuichi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inserted: “If I Say Things Like I Love You” by Nova Williams
> 
> A/N: The only speaking done in this chapter will be lines from the poem.

**Chapter 5: If I Say Things Like I Love You**

**(Eiri)**

He screwed up. Big time. No amount of groveling, pleading or begging would bring Shuichi back home. Even if his stubborn pride would allow such abashing nonsense. Call him a chicken, a coward, yellow. Call him what you will, but he just could not do it. What if Shuichi shut the door in his face? Told him to go to hell? Eiri was not sure if he could take being rejected. Not after finally finding the one person he could see spending the rest of his life with. He did not want to go back to the way he was when his pink-haired idiot first came barreling into his life. He just could not. There was no way he would be able to survive a repeat of that time.

He had to get his baka back. He just had to. Shuichi had given his life meaning. Shuichi was his everything. It was so out of character for him to think such romantic drivel, but there was no denying the truth. Of course, there was always the option of dragging Shuichi home like he usually did, but…That would solve nothing. Then again, no matter how far he was tossed, no matter the words spewed into his ear, Shuichi Shindou always forgave him. Shuichi always returned to him. Always. He could never escape from his pink-haired demon, even if he wanted to. But this time…things were different.

Shuichi claimed they did not spend time together. Maybe he was right. In that case…

“If-I were to ask you out, what would you say?”

 

* * *

 

**(Shuichi)**

For once, he was at a loss. The argument he had with Eiri weighed heavily on his mind. This was far from the first fight they’ve ever had and there was no doubt that it would not be the last. But this time, things were different. He was not sure why. Maybe it was the hurtful words he spewed. There was no way Eiri would ever forgive him, not that Shuichi could blame him.

More than anything, he wanted to go home to Eiri and apologize properly. Unfortunately, though…  
Just saying, “sorry” was not going to be enough. Not this time.

 

* * *

 

**(Eiri)**

If only “sorry” would cut it. If it was more than adequate, he would gladly say it a million times over; screw his pride. Shuichi was more important. He knew that was nothing more than wishful thinking though, as much as he wished it were otherwise. It was because of this damnable pride or stubbornness or whatever it was that kept him mute. More than anything, he wished he were more like Shuichi, able to…

“Say-the things I want to say.”

 

* * *

 

**(Shuichi)**

It was so cold in his apartment. Spring it may be outside these four walls, but within, winter still brewed.

He hugged his knees to his chest. Resting his cheek on his legs, Shuichi turned from the sight of the small space crammed full of piles of miscellaneous junk, including parts of old synthesizers, to stare out the window. The sight of the Tokyo skyline was breathtaking, but he was blind to its beauty. He was blind to everything but the pain in his heart and the turmoil in his head.

This was the first time he had been here in a very long time. The last time he came was…it had to be when that rumor about Hiro quitting had been circulating and then he’d been locked in a portapotty right as Bad Luck was supposed to take the stage at the “Fly to the next Century” music festival. During that time, he had fallen into a depression, once again, over the fact that he was the only one in love in his and Eiri’s “relationship” (or so he thought at the time) and hid here just as he was doing now (1).

What a coward.

He never really understood why he maintained this place. What was the point? It really was nothing more than a dumping ground. He could always rent a storage garage. It would probably be cheaper in the long run anyway. As true as that was, where would he go when Eiri and he fought? Going to his parents’ or Hiro’s place was out of the question. There was no way he could continue to rely on them as he had in the past. So instead, he kept his small efficiency. Not even Hiro knew about this place, let alone Eiri. So it made for a perfect hiding spot.

But…

He wished more than anything that Eiri would show up on his doorstep and sweep him into his arms, kiss him and hold him close. He wished Eiri would whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

“Things like- I want to make you mine and…”

 

* * *

 

**(Eiri)**

He clamped a cigarette in his mouth, his last one he noticed disdainfully. Cursing, he crumbled the wrapper and tossed it onto the dashboard. Reaching for his lighter, he flicked it to life. The shadows on his face danced in the light from the flame. He brought the sterling silver lighter up. When his hazel eyes caught sight of the printed sticker, he grew still. Pulling the unlit cigarette out of his mouth, he palmed his lighter and stared down at the first family photograph. A rare smile crossed his face. It chased away the shadows.

The smile faltered as Shuichi’s parting words echoed in his mind. Shuichi may despise him, but he…

“I love you- more than words can say.”

 

* * *

 

**(Shuichi)**

Unfurling himself, he groaned as his joints protested, winced as pain prickled through his limbs.

This was nuts. He could not hide here forever. He would just have to confront Eiri and hash things out once and for all.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed off the aging mattress and gathering his things, flung his bag over his shoulder. Slipping into his sneakers, he gave his apartment one last look before he threw open the doors. He stepped out into the bright evening sun and gasped.

 

* * *

 

**(Eiri)**

He shut the car door and gazed up at the building before him with a frown. To think such a seedy place was only blocks from his first place. Go figure.

Making up his mind, he darted across the street in a lull in the traffic. He patted his pocket. Good. He just hoped it worked.

 

* * *

 

**(Shuichi)**

Eiri!

He could not believe it! How had he…? When…? What was…? Once again he was at a loss. Tears prickled his eyes. Eiri had come for him! Nothing Eiri ever did surprised him anymore. The man was way too cool and super smart. But…what was he holding?

Violet eyes went wide. His gasp was lost amidst the noise of the traffic below. The setting sun glistened off a silver circlet lying in the pale palm.

“What would you say?”

Oh, Eiri!

 

**...To Be Continued...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are interested in this poem go to Poetry.com, then click "search poems", then in "search by poet's name" enter "Nova Marie Williams". You can log in via facebook if you so choose.


	6. And Baby Makes Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes junior in a baby carriage.

**Chapter 6: And Baby Makes Three**

They had not been married for very long. In fact the ceremony had only just finished when it started making the rounds. That dreaded word.

Baby.

Why did people always leap to the assumption that as soon as a couple wed, they would start a family immediately? It might just be the most logical next step. Like the blue of the sky. The green of the grass. Just like two comes after one. But could they have children? Should they?

Baby.

Shuichi liked the sound of that. To have a baby with his husband. He had to giggle at that. Husband. Who would have thought? To say Maiko and their mother were thrilled when they learned that he and Eiri were going to get hitched would be an understatement. As for his father? Who knows? He appeared supportive enough, which shocked Shuichi greatly, what with him being the only son, but Shuichi was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. And of course, his mother was the main voice behind the rumor that her son and new son-in-law were “looking to start a family”.

“Mo~om!”

“What? I’m not getting any younger, Shuichi.”

After all the guests had gone home and Shuichi and Eiri were wrapped in each other’s arms relearning how to breathe, it was not Shuichi, surprisingly, who brought up the topic, but Eiri. “We don’t have to, you know.”

Shuichi pouted dramatically. “You don’t want to have a baby with me?”

Eiri rolled his eyes. Ever the pessimistic. “I said no such thing.”

“But-!”

“But what?” Eiri snapped. His beyond exasperated. He was sorry he ever brought it up. The lack of sleep must be finally catching up with him. It was affecting his reasoning. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let what your mom or anybody else say affect your decision.”

“Oh.” Shuichi bit his lip and started off at nothing in particular, lost in thought.

When Shuichi remained silent for much longer than he was used to, Eiri nudged his lover turned boyfriend turned fiancé turned husband. “Hey. What’s up?”

Shuichi hummed from deeply within his throat. “Just thinking,” he answered distracted.

Eiri scoffed. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Shuichi threw Eiri a glare full of malice and discontent.

Eiri snickered. His face softened as he reached out with his free hand and tucked a stray strand of bright pink hair behind Shuichi’s ear. Gently he trailed his fingers down Shuichi’s flushed face. “Are you happy?”

His face practically glowing, Shuichi smiled tenderly up at his husband. He tipped into the large, warm hand cupping his face. “I’ve never been happier,” he admitted.

Eiri lowered his face until their lips were but a kiss away. “Good,” he whispered huskily.

Violet eyes went wide. A rosy tint colored Shuichi’s already flushed face as Eiri captured his lips with his own. Alternately deep and shallow, the multitude of kisses took Shuichi’s breath away and scattered his thoughts into the four winds. A deeply rooted heat that never truly dissipated rose quickly within him and swept him away.

Baby.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. No. It’s not such a bad idea at all.

 

**...To Be Continued...**


	7. A Gravitation Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Valentine’s Day and Shuichi gets a valentine from a secret admirer and it's not his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inserted: “Still Loving You” by the Scorpions 
> 
> A/N: This story was pre-written when I first uploaded this story and the chapters (there are several of them) that are indicated as 6.2, 7.2, 7.3 (and the like) are chapters that I wrote after it was already finished and wiggled into the story line that would better move the actually plot along.

**Chapter 7: A Gravitation Valentine**

_Time, it needs time_  
 _To win back your love again._  
 _I will be there, I will be there._

_Love, only love_  
 _Can bring back your love someday._  
 _I will be there, I will be there._

_Fight, babe, I'll fight_  
 _To win back your love again._  
 _I will be there, I will be there._

_Love, only love_  
 _Can break down the walls someday._  
 _I will be there, I will be there._

_If we'd go again_  
 _All the way from the start,_  
 _I would try to change_  
 _The things…_

Shuichi’s train of thought stalled. He blinked down at his notebook, his pen poised on the paper. The shrill ringing filled the apartment again. Lifting his head, Shuichi gazed across the open room into the kitchen. Setting the pen in the center crease, he closed his notebook and standing up, dropped his notebook onto the coffee table. Rounding the table and the sectional, he skirted the dining room table and stepped into the kitchen. He yelped and danced towards the phone. The tiled floor was as cold as ice in winter. He thought they were supposed to have heated flooring, but you would never know it. Of course, that’s what slippers were for. And of course, he left his sitting in the living room. Typical.

Grabbing the cordless extension, Shuichi hopped onto the stool at the bar. “Hello,” he breathed into the receiver.

“Hello, Mr. Shindou. This is Naoki Takakami from the front desk,” said the confident male voice in his ear.

“Oh! Hello, Naoki-kun! How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you. Mr. Shindou there was a delivery for you.”

“For me?” Shuichi blinked in surprise.

“Yes, sir.”

A grin spread across Shuichi’s face. “Yuki,” he breathed. He did remember! “I’ll be right down!” With a giggle, Shuichi jumped down off the stool and hung up the phone. Humming happily, he practically skipped out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Slipping into his sneakers, he grabbed his keys and stepped out into the hall. The apartment door shut behind him. His happy grin remained plastered on his face as he took the elevator down to the lobby.

Feeling as if he could cross the Red Sea without it parting, Shuichi slid out of the elevator to the front desk.

“Hey, Naoki-kun,” Shuichi greeted.

“Ah! Hello, Shindou-san.”

“So? Where is it? Where is it?” Shuichi asked eagerly. He felt like a kid at Christmas time. Or maybe a kid in a candy store at Christmas time.

“Just one moment.” Naoki disappeared into the back room and reappeared seconds later with the largest bouquet of flowers either man had ever seen.

Shuichi was floored. “Oh. My. God. Is that it? For me?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Shindou,” Naoki nodded as he set the assortment down on the counter.

The bouquet was huge. No. It was more than huge. It was monstrous! Half his height and wider than his entire arm span. There must be every known flower in the arrangement. Chrysanthemums. Roses. Miniature roses. Violets. Morning Glories. Baby’s Breath. Daffodils. Lilies. Snap dragons. Irises. Orchids. Jonquils. Petunias. Hydrangeas. Jasmines. Primroses. Pansies. Lavender. Heather. Daisies. They were all here in a rainbow of colors.

“Wow,” he breathed with tears in his eyes. For once, Shuichi was at a loss for words.

Eiri was not much of a romantic. At least he pretends not to be. So Valentine’s Day has never been much of a holiday for the two lovers. Even pressed, threatened or even blackmailed, Eiri refused to acknowledge that the fourteenth of February was anything but any other day. Hell, it’d taken until last Christmas to get Eiri to cave into celebrating it like every other normal person in the world. So, instead of chocolate and flowers, a romantic dinner for two and a movie spent cuddling together, Eiri locked himself away in his study leaving Shuichi to widdle the day away alone in front of the television watching other people find love and live happily ever after. But this year, this year was going to be different. Because this year, Eiri had finally acknowledged that today was special. That Shuichi was special.

“Woohoo!” Shuichi cheered. He tossed back his head and cried at the top of his lungs, “I love you, too, Yuki!”

 

* * *

 

Up in his study, Eiri sneezed. Immediately, he knew the baka was up to something. “Damn brat,” he muttered as he continued to pound away at his laptop.

 

* * *

 

“Yu~ki loves me! Yu~ki loves me! Yu~ki loves me,” Shuichi sang happily as he skipped into the condominium. Humming, he toes off his sneakers as he kept his gaze centered on the humongous bouquet in his arms. The flowers were heavy as hell, but he had never been so happy in his entire life that he didn’t care how much the arrangement weighed. Flinging his sneakers aside with his toes, Shuichi skipped into the dining room. He was so happy! His Yuki actually sent him flowers. “Eee!” Shuichi giggled, clasping his hands in front of him. He sort of felt like a fool for acting like a school girl experiencing her first crush, but he couldn’t help it. Burying his nose among the flowers, he inhaled, taking a great, big whiff. “Aah!” The sweet perfume was intoxicating. With a giggle, Shuichi strolled into the kitchen in search of a vase.

 

* * *

 

Eiri pushed open the door and stepped into the living room. Yawning, he scratched his head then combed his fingers through his hair. Slipping off his reading glasses, Eiri rubbed at his tired, aching eyes. He’d been up all night working on the English translation of his last book. And he had yet to start on his new novel. Maybe he should try to find someone to do the translation for him. It would be a hell of a lot easier. Replacing his glasses, he turned towards the sound of his baka’s angelic voice. That’s when he spotted the flowers. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

He crossed the room.

“Shu, where’d these cone from?”

“From you silly,” Shuichi answered from the kitchen.

“…No. There are not,” Eiri said quietly. Stepping closer to the table and the offensive bouquet, he noticed something hidden among the flowers.

“What? Of course they are.” Shuichi strolled out of the kitchen with a crystal vase. “Who else would send me flowers?”

“Not me.”

“Oh, c’mon Eiri,” Shuichi chided as he studied the relatively small vase and then the large flower arrangement. Unfortunately, there was no way all the flowers were going to fit. "Damn."

“I did not send you these.” But someone did and that someone was going to die a slow and painful death, Eiri thought.

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“But-!”

“Shu!” Eiri lifted his gaze. Gold locked with violet. “These flowers are not from me.”

A mixture of emotions crossed Shuichi’s face. They weren’t from Eiri? But…That made no sense! Could they be from his parents? A fan?

“You know damn well what I think of Valentine’s Day.”

Fury raced through Shuichi. “I do know,” he snapped. With a harrumph, Shuichi grabbed the large bouquet of flowers and marched across the room and out of sight. The sound of a door slamming harder than necessary vibrated through the condo.

The baka was actually going to keep them just to spite him! Shuichi didn’t even know who sent them or why and he was going to keep them! Eiri’s hand clenched tightly into a fist. “Son of a...,” he cursed angrily when sharp stung his palm. Unfurling his hand, he stared down at the crumpled piece of paper. It was the card that came with the damnedable flowers. Curious, Eiri straightened the paper out. His eyes narrowed as he read what was printed. “'Please be mine'. What the fuck…?”

 

**...To Be Continued...**


	8. The Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend comes back into Shuichi’s life and makes him an offer.

**Chapter 8: The Offer**

**1 Year Later**

“Good morning Lisa,” Shuichi sang as he entered the lobby at NG Productions.

The petite, shy woman blushed. “There’s a man here to see you.” She pointed passed him.

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder and spied a man of average height and weight dressed semi-casually in jeans and a black suit coat over a white graphic t-shirt slouched in one of the chairs in the waiting room with his hands clasped in his lap. There was a briefcase at his feet. Shuichi did not recognize him.

As if feeling eyes on him, the man looked up and spotted him. Eyes darker than night lit up. Unfolding himself, the man got to his feet.

“Who is he?” Shuichi asked the woman.

Without taking her gaze from the unknown stranger, Lisa said, “I’m not sure. He said his name was Yoshio Nakamura.”

Shuichi perked at the name.

“He claimed you grew up together.”

She hadn’t even finished speaking when Shuichi tore off across the lobby.

Yoshio was grinning broadly by the time Shuichi made it to the waiting area. “Shuichi Shindou,” he greeted.

“Yoshi!” Shuichi giggled and threw himself at his old friend, ignoring the hand held out in greeting.

“It sure has been a while,” Yoshio hugged Shuichi back. He was not at all thrown by the singer’s overtly affectionate nature. Since they were little.

“You’re telling me!” Shuichi beamed. Then pulling out of his friend’s arms, he pouted and slapped Yoshi playfully. “You’re so mean. Abandoning me like that.”

Yoshio chuckled sheepishly. He scratched his head. “Sorry bout that.” He turned nervous suddenly. “So, uh, do you have time? Or…?”

Shuichi fixed the strap of his messenger bag that was slipping off his shoulder. He wanted to blurt out “yes”. He had to bit his tongue to keep from doing so. He’d gotten into trouble in the past with both Eiri and the band for speaking without thinking. The last thing he needed was another bullet to the head. Or a kick in the ass. “Let me go speak to the guys…You know what? Why don’t you come up?”

Yoshio looked surprised. “Really? You sure?”

“Yeah! C’mon!”

“Alright. Cool.”

Grabbing his hand, Shuichi started to drag Yoshio across the room and up the staircase. It tended to be faster than the elevator.

“Ah! Wait a sec!” Pulling his hand free, Yoshio jogged back to his seat and grabbed his briefcase. “That same as ever I see,” he commented as he returned to where Shuichi waited impatiently. Yoshio chuckled lightly.

Shuichi cocked his head cutely. “Huh?”

Yoshio shook his head. “Nothing.”

Shuichi regarded his old friend for a moment longer. “Okay. Now, c’mon!”

As he followed Shuichi up the staircase, Yoshio studied his pink-haired friend.

Standing barely at five-four, Shuichi was as thin as a chopstick, which was accentuated by skimpy, tight clothing, a smile that could light the whole of Tokyo Tower and an open and honest personality. Combine all that with stunning good looks and Eiri Yuki easily became the luckiest bastard on the planet.

“So, Yoshi,” Shuichi said breaking into his thoughts as they made it to the landing. “What’s going on? You married?”

“Nope. I have a girlfriend I’ve been seeing for a few months now though.”

“Cool! She didn’t come with you?”

“No. She’s a student at M-U so she’s in class right now.”

“Ah! How’d you meet?”

Yoshio scratched his cheek. “On the bus.”

Shuichi was surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently, she grew up right down the street from us, but then when her father passed away, she and her mother moved to Osaka to be with her grandparents.”

“Wow.” Shuichi’s eyes sparkled. He clasped his hands. “It must be fate.”

Yoshio rolled his eyes. “Still a romantic, I see.”

“But of course!’ Shuichi argued passionately. “Just like meeting Yuki was written in the stars.”

Yoshio cleared his throat. Moving right along. “So I guess the rumors are true then? About you and Mr. Yuki?” It came as no surprise that Shuichi turned out to be gay. It actually put many things into perspective. Like finally being able to put together a puzzle where all the pieces looked alike.

A pinkish tint colored Shuichi’s cheeks. “Actually, we got married last year,” he admitted with pride.

“Yeah, I heard that. And you got a daughter now?”

“Sayo. Yup!”

“Cute. How old is she?”

“Just about six weeks now.”

“Wow.” It was hard to picture his friend as a father.

“Oh! Here we are.”

They stopped before a doorway that looked like every other one on the floor. Only a plaque on the wall besides the door that read, “Rehearsal Studio 2” distinguished it from the others.

“Howdy fellas,” Shuichi exclaimed loudly as he threw open the door.

“Hey, Shu,” Hiro greeted as he continued to strum on his guitar. One of the cords sounded off.

“It’s about time Mr. Shindou.”

And that would be Suguru.

Shuichi planted a hand on his hip and pointed a finger at his musical arranger and keyboardist. “I’ll have you know that Eiri drove me into work today. So if I’m late, you’re just going to have to talk to him.”

“That always seemed to be the case, huh?”

Violet eyes narrowed. “Yeah, what of it?” Shuichi snapped back. “We love one another and Eiri tends to-“

Hiro spotted the guy for the first time as he stepped into the band’s rehearsal space behind Shuichi. “Who’s that?” he asked, breaking into his friends’ argument. The less he heard about Shuichi’s love life the better.

“Huh?” His daily fight with Suguru instantly forgotten, Shuichi turned towards his best friend.

“Him.” Hiro pointed at the man looking amused in the doorway.

“’Him’?” Shuichi turned around and instantly his eyes brightened. “Oh! This is Yoshio.” He latched onto his friend’s arm. “Yoshio Nakamura.”

“Hello.” Yoshio bowed in greeting.

“Yoshi. This is Hiro and Suguru.”

Hiro studied the newcomer closely. He inclined his head in greeting.

Suguru too regarded the man. “And who’s he? Your new boyfriend?”

Shuichi tossed his head. “You’re just jealous.”

“’Jealous’? Why in the hell-?”

“Fujisaki,” Hiro said sharply. He simply shook his head when his fellow band mate glanced in his direction.

“Easy,” Shuichi said.

Hiro sighed and tossed his hands up in the air. He gave up.

“Oh?” Suguru cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah. You’re jealous of the fact that all the good looking ones chase after this piece of fine ass.” Shuichi developed a confident gleam in his eye as he stuck out his hip and jerked his thumb into his chest.

Besides him, Yoshio quietly chuckled.

Dropping his hands his hips, Suguru rolled his eyes. “Please!”

“You know I’m right,” Shuichi said pointing across the studio at the boy behind the synthesizer. “Ever since we were forced to let you join.”

Suguru opened his mouth to retort.

“Just go with it,” Hiro mumbled.

“What?!” Suguru exclaimed just as quietly.

“Sug, if this goes on any longer, we won’t get any work done today.”

Suguru growled softly. “Fine.” He regarded the singer.

Shuichi seemed to have completely forgotten about Suguru and their argument once again. In fact, he appeared to have forgotten everything but the man to whose arm he was clinging.

Hiro studied his friend closely. He did not like this Yoshi Nakamura guy. It was obvious that he and Shuichi were especially close. There was something there. He was not sure what it was though. Maybe it was the look on his friend’s face. It was something Hiro had seen in regards to one other person: Mr. Eiri Yuki. Hiro’s dark eyes narrowed. “So, Yoshio, how exactly do you know our Shuichi?” he inquired.

“Well,” Yoshio answered, “actually, we used to be best friends.”

“Yup!” Shuichi agreed, grinning widely up at the man.

Hiro was thrown for a loop.

“We used to live down the street from one another,” Yoshio continued.

Shuichi pouted. “But then you left.” He smacked Yoshio’s arm playfully.

Yoshio glanced down at Shuichi. He smiled gently. “True, but it wasn’t my fault. My dad got a promotion and we had to move.”

Hiro cleared his throat. He did not like the way the two of them looked at one another. “And so?”

“Yes?” Yoshio answered, breaking his gaze away from Shuichi’s.

“Is there a reason why we’re just standing here?” Suguru inquired.

“Actually,” Yoshio said, “I’ve come to elicit Shu’s services.”

“Oh?”

“Matters of that nature must go through either Mr. K or Mr. Sakano first,” Suguru said.

Yoshio nodded. “Yes, if I wanted Bad Luck or Shuichi Shindou the front man, but I’m here to ask my old friend a favor. If he then must speak with his people, then so bet it.”

Suguru scoffed. “Of all the nerve.” He whispered.

Hiro did not like this. Not at all.

“So, I’m going to take an early lunch,” Shuichi announced.

“What? You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Shu, you just got here.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi agreed with a nod, “and it’s lunch time.” He pointed at the clock on the wall.

Hiro and Suguru followed their friend’s finger. Sure enough, it was nearly noon. When they turned back around, Shuichi was gone.

“What the hell,” Suguru exclaimed.

Hiro continued to stare at the empty doorway through narrowed eyes.

 

* * *

 

“Here ya go.” Shuichi set a cold bottle of strawberry Ramuné down in front of Yoshio.

“Thanks.”

Shuichi sat down opposite his friend with his own soda. Both made quick work of the marble stoppers. Shuichi took a swig. It burned down his throat and made his eyes water. He smacked his lips together in appreciation. “Aah!” He held up the clear glass bottle and stared hypnotized at the reddish liquid. “Huh?” He looked around the Ramuné bottle when he heard the sound of gagging. “Yoshi?”

“You still have strange taste,” Yoshio managed to choke out.

“Huh? Strange?” Shuichi glanced from his pop to his friend and back. “Hm.” He pouted. “You sound like Yuki.”

“Really?” Yoshio chuckled.

Shuichi took another sip. “So, what’s this favor you want?”

Coughing one last time, Yoshio set his pop down and then folded his hands together on the table in front of him. “Actually, have you heard of the magazine _Blaze_?”

“ _Blaze_?”

“Yeah.”

Shuichi ran the name through his mind. While it sounded vaguely familiar, the only thing that came to mind was _Mirage of Blaze_. “Nope. Why?”

“Because I own it.”

“Really?” Shuichi’s eyes lit up. “That is so cool.” He leaned forward over the table. “So? What kind of magazine is it?”

Yoshio’s face burned hotly. “..Uh, well…it’s, uhm, a…”

Shuichi cocked his head.

“A…porn mag for, uh, gay men.” With each word, Yoshio’s voice became lower and lower.

For the first time, Shuichi found that he was speechless. “You…you’re…gay?” To say that he was surprised would be an understatement. It was more shocking than a diehard Eiri Yuki fan discovering that the author had a thing for a sexy, young singer by the name of Shuichi Shindou.

Yoshio blinked. After confessing to being the owner of a porn magazine, that was the first thing out of Shuichi’s mouth? Typical Shuichi. But he quickly denied it.

Left confused, Shuichi blinked at his friend. “But…?”

“It’s a long story.”

Shuichi really did not get it.

“ _Blaze_ was founded by Ohta Chinone in the summer of 1976. It has a pretty soiled past.”

“How soiled?” Shuichi was intrigued.

“Well, its debut stirred up an immediate controversy when it published nude photos of the then Prime Minister’s cousin.”

Gasping, Shuichi’s eyes went wide.

 _Blaze_ was notorious for printing photographs of nude men in explicit and graphically sexual poses whether they are of models, entertainers or others that were in the public eye or even everyday citizens.

“So, it’s like one of those…tabloid magazines?” Shuichi asked in disgust. He had experience with those.

Yoshio tipped his head from side to side. “Mm…It depends on your point of view.”

 _Blaze_ quickly grew into one of the most popular “adult gay male magazines” in the country, which in turn stirred up a growing sect of people opposed to the magazine. These people called the magazine, “Immoral” and the photos within its pages “filth”.

“I can understand why,” Shuichi said quietly.

“Huh?”

“I mean, people’s private lives are just that. If I want to walk around my own home naked than I should be able to do just that without worrying over whether or not some pervy paparazzo has snapped some pictures of me with my morning wood with his zoom lens from the roof of the building across the street!”

Yoshio nodded. He agreed wholly with that, which was why with the blessing of the Chinone family, he planned on giving the magazine a complete renovation. “I want to turn _Blaze_ into a legitimate household name. You know, like _Playboy_.”

Shuichi growled deeply from within his throat. Eiri used to have a subscription to that magazine. He found them one day while he was cleaning their bedroom, which had been completely ransacked while he’d tried to find an appropriate outfit to wear to dinner with his parents one day. Here they were engaged (at the time) and Eiri still had naked pictures of girls he jerked off to. Bastard. Eiri found them right where he left them...as a big, black pile of ash. To say Eiri had been pissed would be an understatement, but he‘d cancelled his subscription the next day though.

“-your help.”

Shuichi’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Please, Shu.” Yoshio scooted to the edge of the chair. “Will you help me? Will you pose for me?”

Flabbergasted, Shuichi’s mind was sent reeling. “Me? Pose? For you?”

“Please!”

“Yoshi…”

“Please, Shu. It-it-it…it doesn’t have to be explicit or graphic. Just, just--pretend.”

Shuichi cocked his head. “Huh?”

“I mean--make it look like, uhm, just like, if you were to move a little like this or if the sheet were to slip just like so--You know!”

“Mm--I--I don’t…” Uncertainty clouded Shuichi’s vision.

Shu. Please.” Yoshio begged. “I need this.”

Biting his lip, Shuichi shook his head. Best friend or not, there was no way in hell he was going to have nude photographs of himself splashed all over a gay porn magazine or any other magazine for that matter. Besides, Eiri would kill him. “I’m sorry, Yoshi. I just can’t.”

Yoshio looked crestfallen, though he had had a feeling that was what the answer would be. He nodded sadly.

“It’s just that…”

“It’s okay, Shu. Really. I understand.”

Shuichi smiled apologetically at his friend.

Yoshio sighed heavily. “Can you just--think about it?”

He could ponder it until the three horsemen of the Apocalypse appeared on his doorstep and it would not change his answer, but Shuichi agreed nonetheless.

“If you don’t want to pose, I mean, maybe we can have you do an interview?”

“An interview?”

“Yeah. I mean, explain to our readers what it means to be gay. Coming out. Finding yourself. Being comfortable in your skin. Ya know. That type of thing.”

Shuichi was taken aback. “Why?” He truly had no idea why anyone would want to know something like that. Especially from him. As an entertainer, he knew, though still did not get why, that there were people out there who wanted to know about every little aspect of his life. But why would they want to know about something like “when did you first realize that you were gay?”

“Well, it’s not easy coming out,” Yoshio explained. “There’s all these fears and uncertainties.”

Shuichi nodded. He understood that all too well.

“And hearing from someone like you would be a great help to those who’re struggling to understand themselves, ya know?”

“Hm.” Shuichi sat back. His brow creased in thought. “Okay.” He glanced up. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Yoshio perked up. “Really? Thanks, Shu! I owe you big time.”

If he could help even one person, then it would be worth it.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	9. A Gravitation Birthday: Eiri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi ponders what to get his husband for his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: “If I Die Tomorrow” by Motley Crue

**Chapter 9: A Gravitation Birthday: Eiri**

Restless, Shuichi gnawed on his fingernail. Growing frustrated, he flung his hand down and paced up and down the hall, drilling his fingers against his hips. Blowing out a heavy puff of air, Shuichi raked his fingers through his hair and then linked his fingers behind his head. Pausing halfway between Eiri’s study and the guest bedroom, Shuichi stared up at the ceiling; he then tipped his head to the side and stared across the hall into the dressing room. His reflection stared back at him from the full length mirror hanging from the wall. Dropping his hands, he strode up to Eiri’s closed study door and raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the door opened. Shuichi jumped back in shock. After getting hold of himself, Shuichi prodded his silent partner. “So?”

Eiri returned to his desk without a word.

“Ei~ri,” Shuichi whined his complaint as he followed him into the study.

“It didn’t suck.”

Shuichi’s face brightened at the rare compliment. “Really?”

“So this-” What was the guy’s name? “-Yashi- (1)”

“Yoshi,” Shuichi corrected peevishly.

“Whatever. This is the magazine your friend owns?” The supposedly “straight” friend at that.

“Yup!” Suddenly, Shuichi cocked his head, listening.

“What?”

“Sayo’s awake.”

“Huh?” Eiri didn’t hear a thing…then he heard it. Muffled crying. Eiri started to stand, but Shuichi was already starting out the door.

“I’ve got it.”

Eiri watched Shuichi vanish out the door. Sighing, he reached for his pack of cigarettes and clamped one between his lips. He tossed the nearly empty pack back on his desk and grabbed his silver lighter. It sprang to life in his skillful hands. The flame danced hypnotically. He lifted the lighter until the tip of his cigarette was engulfed. His gaze caught sight of the printed sticker. There was a pang in his heart. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and gazed down at the picture of a younger Shuichi. His baka. An ache tightened his chest. Palming the lighter, Eiri dropped his head back against the top of the chair. Shuichi was much too good for him. “I don’t deserve--someone like him.”

 

* * *

 

Humming softly, Shuichi entered the kitchen carrying his wailing eight week old daughter.

Born the thirty-first of January at quarter to eight in the morning, weighing six pounds, fifteen ounces, Sayo Ai Shindou-Uesugi entered this world by c-section.

Eiri and he had debated long and hard over whether they would go through the tormentuous rigors of the adoption process or hire a surrogate mother. They weighed the pros and cons of each for weeks. Eventually, it was decided that they would try their luck with finding a woman to carry their child. If that did not pan out, then they would turn to their backup: adoption. It did not matter to either of them if the child was blood or not. All they wanted was a child to raise and love.

The woman they found was Mai Yushigaki. She just so happened to be Suguru Fujisaki’s mother’s cousin’s daughter. The twenty-one year old worked at NG Productions as a sound engineer. She worked on Bad Luck’s last album and was currently working with Nittle Grasper on their new CD. She was a very quiet, beautiful woman who had given birth to an equally if not even more beautiful baby girl.

Teeny, pale complected with big dark chocolate eyes and a crop of blond-blond hair, Sayo looked like a female clone of Eiri. She was so adorably cute. Eiri claimed that Sayo may have his looks, but she had Shuichi’s features. Shuichi didn’t see it. Maybe in the large, round eyes and the big set of lungs, but then again all babies had those attributes. But Eiri said their daughter had his features and Shuichi had to believe that, even if he could not see it.

 _It brings out the worst in me_  
 _When you’re not around_  
 _I miss the sound of your voice_  
 _The silence seems so loud_  
 _‘Cause there’s no one else_  
 _Since I found you_  
 _I know it’s been so hard_  
 _You should know_  
 _If I die tomorrow_  
 _As the minutes fade away_  
 _I can’t remember_  
 _Have I said all I can say?_  
 _You’re my everything_  
 _You make me feel so alive_  
 _If I die tomorrow (_ 2)

Humming again, Shuichi reached into the refrigerator for one of Sayo’s bottles. It was a good thing they had a side by side model. Otherwise trying to find anything with a baby on his arms would be very difficult. Pulling off the cap with his teeth, Shuichi spit it into the sink and placed the bottle of milk in the microwave. As the hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, Shuichi realized that his daughter’s deafening howls had quieted. “Better than any bottle, huh?” He swayed gently from side to side, chuckling.

Sayo stared up at him with her large, round dark eyes.

“Ya know,” Shuichi continued, “Daddy claims that my singing annoys him, but ya know what? Daddy’s all talk. Know why?” Shuichi checked over his shoulder. The coast was clear. He dropped his voice. “Daddy actually loves my voice. Just don’t go spreading it around, okay?”

The din from the microwave’s timer going off echoed through the kitchen.

“Daddy’ll never admit that he thinks my voice is like that of an angel,” Shuichi winked.

Taking the bottle of now warm milk out of the microwave, Shuichi laid the nipple against Sayo’s lips. Immediately, she latched onto it and started sucking away aggressively. Once, again swaying back and forth, Shuichi started humming again as he smiled down at his daughter.

Daughter.

He was a father. Who ever would have thought?

Shuichi blinked away the threat of stinging tears just beginning to cloud his sight and cleared his tightening throat. He had everything now. A great career, a wonderful, loving husband and a gorgeous baby girl.

His gaze swept over the kitchen and when they landed on the calendar hanging on the wall besides the phone, his violet eyes lit up. “Daddy’s birthday is in a couple weeks.” He couldn’t believe it had nearly slipped his mind. What kind of partner did that make him? “Hm. What should we get him?”

An image of him burning Eiri’s pile of Playboy magazines out on the balcony flashed through his head. Shuichi smirked as the devilish fun he had that night came flooding back. There’d been a picture of his warpath destruction in all the tabloids the next day. “Shuichi’s Rampage” the headlines had screamed. Over the years, they’d gotten into the habit of ignoring as best they could the filthy trash that made the rounds, unless it was particularly harmful or damaging and even then Tohma handled it. When those pictures of Shuichi and the burning magazines came out, they issued no statement. What could they say? Shuichi Shindou explodes into a jealous fit?

Whatever.

But it did give him a brilliant idea. Shuichi’s smile morphed into a toothy grin.

 

* * *

 

**Two Weeks Later**

Yawning, Eiri strolled into the lobby of his condominium building. He gave his heads a violent shake to clear away the gathering haziness. He blinked his aching, gritty eyes to keep the gleaming marble and gold in focus as he strolled toward the elevator. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet and he was already exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open. But that was what happened when you went to bed in the wee hours of the morning after being up for over forty-eight hours straight only to wake up a couple hours later in order to make it in time to do some three minute interview on the morning news. Then after that it was off to do a book singing on the opposite side of the city. Then it was off to the university to fill in for some author who’d been scheduled to give a lecture on “adapting your writing style to different formats and assignments for classroom and business use” but who’d cancelled at the last possible second. He swore he was this close to firing Kanna Mizuki for someone who didn’t constantly have him running around Japan ragged and still demanded he turn in his manuscripts on time. Damn woman was going to be the death of him. He swore.

“Mr. Ueusgi, sir,” a voice entered his mind muddled from lack of sleep.

Eiri barely suppressed a groan. The only thing he wanted was to collapse into a dead sleep and not wake up for a week, at the earliest. Instead, he detoured to the front desk. “Yes?”

The man reached under the desk and produced a manila envelope. “This came for you.”

It was relatively flexible. If he had to hazard a guess, Eiri would have to say that it was a catalogue of some sort. Or maybe a magazine. But he has never received anything of that sort in a manila envelope since he applied to college. Usually, the catalogues came as is and the magazines arrived in plastic wrap. Strange. He didn’t remember ordering anything either. Maybe Shuichi did? It would be just like the baka. Since Shuichi did not have a credit card or debit card (he tended to lose them), he used Eiri’s if he wanted to buy something, which resulted in numerous packages arriving in his name.

“Brat.”

He wondered what his husband ordered this time.

“Thanks,” he muttered to the man. What was his name? Naoki? Whatever.

Eiri swore that if Shuichi bought more useless junk, he’d kill him. His mind was made up as the elevator doors slid closed.

 

* * *

 

“Shu,” he called as he set the package on the raised portion of floor before him. Shrugging out of his coat, Eiri hung it up in the closet. Then stepping out of his shoes, he slid into his slippers and placed his shoes in the closet besides Shuichi’s. Picking up the manila envelope, he walked into the house and set it on the table as he cut his way to the living room.

The television was on the music channel. Apparently, Shuichi had had either muted the TV or he’d suddenly gone deaf--not that it would surprise him if he had--for the singer on the screen with her contingent of dancers behind her were moving to silence.

He leaned over the sofa. “Shu-“

There curled up on the sofa with his back to the TV was his husband. His soft snores filled the unusual silence of the condo. In his arms in a pair of pink footy pajamas was their daughter. Her blond hair was mused. It reminded him of his hair in the morning. Both mother and daughter (Eiri chuckled silently) were sleeping soundly. Guess he wasn’t the only one asleep on his feet.

So, cute, he thought.

Bending over the back of the sofa, Eiri very gently, so as to not wake either Sayo or Shuichi, lifted his daughter out of his husband’s arms. Cradling the almost three-month-old, Eiri carried her to her crib. She didn’t so much as twitch. Just like Shuichi, Eiri decided. Reluctantly, he silently crept out of the nursery and back into the living room. Shuichi had not moved an inch.

Eiri snickered. The baka always seemed so tired nowadays. Not only was Shuichi in the middle of recording a new Bad Luck CD, but he was in talks to put out a cologne and a clothing line based on his stage attire (dear God, why?) and he was also raising a rambunctious three-month-old. How Shuichi did it all without collapsing was beyond him.

“Careful, Shu-chan. If you don’t slow down, you’re going to regret it,” he warned him at one point not too long ago.

“No worries, Eiri.”

Uh, huh. We’ll see.

Not bothering to take the risk that he might disturb him, Eiri decided to let Shuichi be. Unlike their old couch, the new sofa was like dying and going to Heaven. Taking a blanket out of a hidden compartment in the coffee table, Eiri tucked it around his sleeping baka. Planting a chaste kiss on Shuichi’s temple, he whispered, “I love you,” knowing that his conscious mind wouldn’t hear the words, but his unconscious mind would.

In his sleep, Shuichi smiled beautifully and curled up tighter under the blanket.

Straightening, Eiri suppressed a yawn. After turning off the television, he stumbled his way to the bedroom, half asleep on his feet and collapsed face first onto the bed. He was asleep within seconds.

The manila envelope lay forgotten on the dining room table.

 

* * *

 

When he woke the next morning, it was to a TV try sitting next to the bed. There was a single red rose in a crystal tube vase and his glasses were sitting atop the manila envelope from yesterday. Curious, Eiri sat up and reached for the envelope. Ripping open the sealed flap, he pulled out a single sheet of paper.

He slid his glasses on. “Dear Eiri,” the letter began, “I wasn’t sure what to get you for your birthday, but than I remembered trashing your girly magazines. So, I decided to replace them. Hope you enjoy it. Happy Birthday. Love, Shuichi.”

“Hm.”

Unexpected. Hadn’t Shuichi hated those Playboy magazines? Why would he replace something he nearly burned down the house to destroy? Eiri shrugged, deciding not to think about it too much.

Setting the note down, Eiri reached into the manila envelope and pulled out what did indeed turn out to be a magazine, but it was not the Playboy he had been expecting. Instead, what he was staring at was a magazine that had a photograph of Shuichi wrapped amidst yards of white mesh writhing nude on a bed fit for a princess printed on the cover. The look on his face had Eiri developing a morning woody like he’d never had before. It was an expression that he has seen countless times before. An expression that reminded Eiri that Shuichi was by far not an innocently naïve school boy. An expression only he, Eiri, was privy too.

Eiri exhaled a shuttered breathe.

He flipped through the magazine. Golden eyes widened more and more with each page that he turned.

“Like it?”

Eiri’s head snapped up and around.

Shuichi was standing in the doorway. His hands were hidden behind his back. The toes of his right foot dug holes into the carpet. Nibbling on his lips, he peered at Eiri uncertainly through a fall of his pink bangs before quickly dropping his gaze. “I, uh, called Yoshi and he helped me make it for you.”

Fury raced through Eiri fast and furiously. Yoshio Nakamura saw his Shuichi naked? He watched as his Shuichi posed so provocatively? He was there when Shuichi spread his legs for him? Oh. No. Oh. Hell. No. That guy was dead. D-E-A-D. Bastard!

Reading his mind, Shuichi crossed the room and maneuvered himself into Eiri’s arms. Wrapping his arms around Eiri’s neck, he laid his head against Eiri’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Yoshi’s straight. He got no pleasure out of this except in being able to help me.”

Eiri narrowed his eyes. So he says, he thought. He had a vow to keep an eye on Shuichi’s friend.

“So?”

“Hm?”

“Do you like my present?”

Eiri smiled at his husband. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Shuichi’s ear. “Very much so.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Shuichi squealed and threw himself at Eiri. “I love you, Eiri. Happy birthday.”

Eiri held Shuichi close and breathed in his scent. He didn’t deserve this pink-haired baka, came the thought once again.

 

**…To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) “Yashi” – palm tree, coconut palm  
> (2) “If I Die Tomorrow” by Motley Crue


	10. Ready?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi fears they will be late for dinner with his parents.

**Chapter 10: Ready?**

“Eiri, come on! We’ve got reservations for eight.”

“In a minute,” Eiri called back.

Shuichi sighed tiredly. “That’s what you said five minutes ago,” he reminded his husband from the doorway of the study.

“So I did.” Eiri continued to pound away at the keyboard. His eyes behind the glasses moved just as rapidly as his fingers.

“Eiri! You’re not even dressed!” Shuichi scolded, stepping into the office.

“Yeah, well, unlike some people,” Eiri threw a pointed look at Shuichi, “I don’t take fifty million years to get ready.”

Shuichi blushed.

“Just let me finish this.”

“And how long is it going to take?”

“I’m almost done.”

“What’re you doing anyway?” Shuichi inquired curiously. He trooped to the desk and stood behind Eiri’s chair.

“An email.”

Shuichi huffed. “We’re going to be late for dinner with my parents because of an email?”

“We won’t be late,” Eiri insisted.

“Yeah, says the man who can’t tear himself away from the computer long enough to get ready.”

Eiri hit the send button, then “okay” to confirm the email address his short, but crisp note was being sent to and then sat back. “There.”

“Done?”

“Yeah.”

“Finally!”

Eiri glanced at the clock on the bottom right hand corner of the screen. “Baka it’s only six-thirty. We have plenty of time.”

“Not if we want to drop Sayo off at my sister’s on the way.”

“Don’t worry.” Eiri went through the motions of shutting down his laptop. “We’ll get to the restaurant on time.”

Shuichi bit his lip.

Eiri pushed away from his desk and made his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

“Who were you emailing?”

“Some chick.”

“What chick?”

“Don’t know.” Eiri undressed and stepped into the bathroom. He didn’t bother shutting the door.

Shuichi crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall besides the door. He stared blankly at the wall above the toilet across from him. “Then why did you email her?” he asked, raising his voice above the sound of the shower.

“She sent me an email.”

“So?”

Eiri received how many emails and letters? What made this girl so different?

“In my shirt pocket.”

“What?”

The sound of the showered quieted. Moments later, Eiri stepped out dripping wet and naked. Shuichi drank in the erotic sight. All other thought fled from his mind in that instant.

“Look in my shirt pocket.”

Eiri’s voice cut through Shuichi’s muddled thoughts. “Huh?”

Wrapping a towel around his waist, Eiri smirked knowingly over his shoulder glistening with water droplets as he grabbed a second towel out of the cupboard. “My. Short. Pocket,” he reiterated, drying himself off.

“Oh.” Overheating and not from embarrassment, Shuichi bent to retrieve whatever it was from Eiri’s shirt pocket. It turned out to be a folded sheet of paper. “What is it?”

“Her email.” Eiri tossed the towel into the hamper and ran his comb through his damp locks.

“I can see that. But what does she say?”

Done with his hair, Eiri strode out of the dressing room and into the walk-in master closet.

Shuichi followed behind, unfolding the sheet of paper.

“She was bitching about something in my book.”

“Again?”

“This’s another chick.”

“Oh.”

Shuichi quickly read through the email. Confusion quickly turned to anger. “What the…? What the hell is she talking about?”

“No idea,” Eiri admitted as he emerged fully dressed in a green button up shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks. A black belt was cinched around his waist. He was fixing the collar of his black suit jacket as he stepped around Shuichi to the dresser to find a pair of socks.

“Doesn’t she know you’re a monk?”

“Obviously not.”

“But…! Why would she say such--such…?”

“Crap?” Eiri suggested. “Who knows? She obviously didn’t read the story.”

“What? Of course she did. Otherwise-!”

Eiri shook his head as he checked out his appearance in the mirror above the dresser. “I mean, she must not have been paying close attention to what she was reading. Because in that same paragraph she’s bitching about, I explain why the character is like she is. Why I wrote what I did.”

Shuichi read and reread the email. With each glance, his fury only grew. “I don’t get it,” he exploded. “How can she say something so--so disrespectful? I mean, how can she even think you’d think that?”

“Don’t know.” Eiri started out the door. “Coming?” he called back at Shuichi. “You were the one complaining about being late.”

“B-but, Eiri!” Shuichi raced after him.

Eiri snatched the email back. “You go get Sayo.” He ordered. “I’ll get her things together.”

“How can you be so calm?”

“Because I already took out all my annoyance in that email I sent her,” Eiri explained. Though he could feel it starting to rekindle the longer they discussed it. “She obviously read too much into it, jumped to a conclusion and-”

“And obviously didn’t know you.”

Eiri inclined his head. “Guess not. But you know, it happens. You can’t please everyone all the time. There will always be that one person who will take offense to the smallest slight, whether it’s true or not or even whether there is a slight. Some people make something out of nothing. They’ll take things out of context in order to prove their point.” Eiri shrugged. “It happens. Now, let’s go.”

“It’s like that other girl, right?” Shuichi asked as he gently lifted Sayo out of her crib.

Slinging the diaper bag over his shoulder, Eiri shrugged. “I suppose.”

“What was she complaining about?”

“Don’t remember,” Eiri admitted. “Something about being a prejudiced bigot.”

“Bitch,” Shuichi hissed as he slipped into his shoes with help from Eiri, seeing his arms were full.

“She’s entitled to her opinion.”

“Even if she’s full of shit?”

“Even if.”

“Don’t people know the meaning of the word ‘fiction’?”

“Guess not. Just like they don’t know what ‘symbolism’ is.”

The couple stepped into the elevator.

“By the way,” Eiri said as he cast Shuichi a sideways glance. “Told ya we’d make it in time.”

“Huh?”

Eiri pulled back the sleeve of his coat and held up his wrist.

“Oh,” Shuichi said as he read the time on Eiri’s watch. It had only taken Eiri fifteen minutes to get ready.

“Baka.”

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	11. A Gravitation White’s Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s White Day and Eiri has a surprise for his husband.

**Chapter 11: A Gravitation White’s Day**

**A Month Later**

It was easy to locate the florist where that absurdly large bouquet was sent from. Turned out the shop was right down the street. Some mom-and-pop place that’s been in business going on sixty years. The current owner, the great grandson of the founder, couldn’t identify the person who sent Shuichi the flowers on Valentine’s Day. Just that it was a man in his mid-twenties who paid cash. That this guy paid for the bouquet in cash surprised me. Personally, I’ve never bought flowers, for any occasion, but I know how expensive they can get, depending on the arrangement and type of flower. Roses especially can get a little on the pricey side. Why someone would be walking around with forty-five thousand yen on him was beyond me. The guy was lucky not to get mugged. But that got me thinking. Who was this guy and why would he be sending my Shuichi flowers as if it were his right? A fan? Possible. Usually, though, things of that nature were delivered to NG productions. So, then, who was it?

An image of what’s his name’s face popped into my mind. That old friend of Shuichi’s. Could he have sent them? The flowers did arrive a month before that guy showed up to ask Shuichi to appear in his adult magazine. The guy hadn’t said anything about the bouquet, but that didn‘t mean anything. If the guy had an ulterior motive, which I’m sure he does, could he have sent the flowers? Probably. But what if he hadn’t sent them? Someone sent them. But who? Could Shuichi have a secret admirer?

That thought made me angry. Very angry. Shuichi was mine. Mine! How dare someone even entertain the notion of trying to steal him away from me? Whoever the culprit was, he better stay an unsolved mystery because I swear to God that I’ll kill him!

Bastard!

Shuichi and I--we’ve had our ups and downs. Not too long ago, we had our biggest obstacle to date. Thankfully, the two of us were able to scale that mountain. While we had a long way to go to get safely to the bottom, together the two of us--Shuichi and I--were walking that path together. I’d do whatever I could to keep my Shuichi at my side. Anything. Even overlook his little indiscretion. Wasn’t it Jesus who proclaimed, “Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone”? So, who am I to punish Shuichi for a crime that I myself committed? That obstruction that hindered our way was now behind us and I was not going to let some lowlife scumbag waltz right in and destroy all my hard work.

I said before that I would do anything for my Shu-chan. And I meant it. Even if it meant acting “out of character” (whatever that means because nobody acts one certain way all the time, not even me). So, what exactly does that mean? What did I do? You’ll see.

 

* * *

 

I hid just out of sight. My lithe baka was home. Finally. Shuichi’s job was not a nine to five job. He did not have a set schedule. There was no office he went to five days a week. He did not work a forty hour work week with mandatory overtime during the summer. Most of the time, Shuichi was home. Some times when he was in need of inspiration, he ambushed me or took a stroll through the park. The only time Shuichi was in the studio was when Bad Luck was recording and during that short time, the hours he was there varied. Some times just a few hours and other times Shuichi spent the entire night in the studio. Those were the days when it was impossible to make any sort of plans and unfortunately, today, of all days, was one of those times.

Damned brat. I should kick his ass.

“Yuki!”

Should I answer back? A devilish idea not to say anything entered my mind, but it was only fleeting. If I wanted to get any nookie tonight, I had to play nice.

“Yuki? You here?”

I could hear the shuffling of his slippered feet against the floor. He was drawing near. Closer. Closer.

“What’s…?”

Smirking, for I knew what he found, I crept out of the kitchen and made my way towards Shuichi quiet as a ghost. He was standing at the dining table with his back to me. Instead of calling out to him, I stood there and admired his slim backside.

His firm buttocks were encased in a pair of tight blue jeans. And dear God he was wearing that belly shirt of his. Talk about a gay shirt. I thought I burned that damned thing. Despite his choice of attire (at least it was normal clothing and not that annoying Tokyo street style, which I detest) my baka was too cute. Tell him I said that and I’ll hunt you down.

Shuichi turned slightly to the right. What he held came into view. It was a slim square package wrapped in silver gift wrap. When light bounced off the wrapping paper, it shone with an iridescence more brilliant than a diamond. Attached to the present was single beautiful rose.

“Awe, wow,” Shuichi breathed.

He pulled the rose out of the ribbon that was wrapped around the present and held it up to his nose. A smile blossomed across his face. I couldn’t help it. My chest swelled so much it hurt. I had to catch my breath to keep from--I’m not sure what, but I’m sure I would have embarrassed myself.

With a giggle (I still can’t believe he does that), Shuichi secured the rose behind his right ear. It was a good thing there were no thorns. Knowing Shuichi, he wouldn’t have noticed them until he started bleeding. Shuichi then pulled off the ribbon and dropped it onto the dining room table.

I was starting to get impatient. Me. Can you believe it? Usually Shuichi tore at the gifts he received. Just like a child on Christmas morning. This time the damnable brat very carefully pried the gift wrap open. I swear to God I think he knows I’m here watching, waiting and is taking his sweet time just to torture me. If that’s the case, I will strangle him. And I don’t mean in that kinky, S&M way either. Finally, though, the shiny silver wrap was off and on the floor where he dropped it when he froze.

“Oh. My. God.”

I chuckled. “I take it-“

Shuichi gasped and jumped a mile.

“-you like it?”

Spinning, his wide violet eyes swimming in tears, Shuichi clasped the CD to his chest. “Oh, Eiri!” With a running start, Shuichi flung himself at me.

Unable to maintain my balance with an extra hundred pounds suddenly tossed into my arms (though I should have seen it coming), I stumbled backwards and then tumbled to the floor. Hard. The jarring impact jolted through my entire body. And then I couldn’t breath for Shuichi was, quite literally, squeezing the life out of me.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much Eiri! I love it.”

He slammed our lips together. Then he was gone and I could breath.

Rubbing my sore neck, I got to my feet and watched Shuichi dance around the table in glee. So much energy. Should come in hand later. The innuendo had my pants feeling a little on the tight side.

“Oh, God, Eiri! Where did you get it? This was a limited edition collector’s series! It was sold out within hours it was released!”

“I have connections,” I admitted with a nonchalant shrug. Walking to the table, I pulled out a chair and sat down.

I don’t think he heard me. The baka was practically drooling over the CD. Guess it was a good idea to call in that favor. He owed me. Big time.

“Ya know, I stood in line for two days when this came out?”

Nothing surprised me anymore when it came to Shuichi and Nittle Grasper. If I wasn’t absolutely dead certain that Shuichi was inexplicably in love with me, I’d be blind with jealousy over his obsession.

“I listened to this CD over and over again. Practically had it memorized.”

Of course. Not much of a life when it came to Shuichi’s favorite band. “I hear a ‘but’.”

Shuichi gave a laugh. “I ended up annoying Maiko with how much I listened to it. So, one day, she snapped and tossed it in the garbage disposal.”

My lips twitched in amusement. “Really.” She had some balls. I envy her. If I did that, I would be on forced celibacy for God knows how long.

“I swear to God,” Shuichi laughed.

Go Maiko.

Shuichi lowered the CD and glanced over the table at me. A serious expression slipped over his face. “Thank you Eiri. Really. This means a lot.”

I smiled at him. I just could not help it. When he becomes so sincere like this, I could deny him nothing.

Standing, I rounded the table to stand behind him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I hugged him against me. “You are very welcome,” I whispered in his ear. Lowering my head, I kissed the side of his neck where the throat met the shoulder. “Happy White Day.”

Shuichi turned around as much as my vise-like grip on him could allow and rising up on his toes, pressed his lips against mine. “I love you, Eiri.”

When he smiled at me, I couldn’t help but return it.

Conking our foreheads together, I whispered, “Me, too.”

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	12. In Regards To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving an email, Shuichi learns the secret Eiri has been keeping from him.

**Chapter 12: In Regards To**

**Two Weeks Earlier**

_“I was with Seguchi, satisfied?”_

That was what Eiri told me when I confronted him about where he was one day a year ago. I thought that was the end of that. Oh how wrong I was. Thirteen months and a new baby later, I was checking my email while little Sayo was napping and found an email from Eiri in my inbox. The subject header read only, “ _Gomen Nasai_ ”. Curious, stupid me opened it. Again, those two words greeted me. What was Eiri trying to pull? Then I noticed there was an attachment. Something was telling me to ignore it, delete the email and forget it. But I couldn’t. They say curiosity killed the cat. There is a reason for that saying. A reason I never really understood until that day.

At first, I was ecstatic. A poem! Yuki wrote me a poem! How romantic. I fell in love with my husband all over again.

But then…

I read it again. And again. And again. Each time I gained new insight. Better clarity…

And then the tears started to flow. That crack reopened in my heart. My whole word came crashing down around me. And that’s when I knew. Eiri lied to me. He looked me straight in the eye and lied. After everything we’ve been through in the four years we’ve been together. After promising eternity to me with that surprise proposal after that argument we had. After all the blood, sweat and tears--quite literally--I’ve put into making this relationship work, Eiri had the nerve to bring someone else into our bed. How could he? How could he do something like this to me? To us? To Sayo? Why would he throw away everything we had on a tryst? Was I not a good enough lover, partner, husband? Was the stress of a new baby too much? Did he regret the decision to hire a surrogate mother to have our child? Or was it that I, as a man, could not properly satisfy the needs of the great Eiri Yuki, another man? And did I really want to know the answer to those questions? What hurt the most was that he has the audacity to confess to me in a poem. A poem! Can you believe it? How typically Eiri Yuki. That jerk.

“I never knew Eiri Yuki to be such a coward,” were the first words that came out of my mouth when Eiri returned home that night.

Knowing the crime he was guilty of, it was a miracle that Eiri came forward in the first place. That in and of itself took more courage than keeping silent would have. I have to at least give him that.

But still…

Despite this betrayal, I love him. He could break every bone in my body in a fit of rage. In a drunken stupor, he could force himself upon me until I’m red and raw and bleeding and I would still love him. Armageddon would not pry me away from my Yuki. He was stuck with me and me him. But I don’t know if I could forgive him for this despite the love I have and will always have for him. Some wounds just do not heal no matter how much antiseptic you use.

A year ago, Eiri claimed Tohma took him out to brunch. What a load of crap. What a lie. It was nothing more than a giant fabrication to hide the horrible sin.

I could still hear Eiri’s voice in my head as he pleaded with me not to go.

_“Shu, baby, you’re making a big deal out of nothing!”_

That remark earned Eiri a black eye. A big deal? Out of nothing? What the fuck! Who was he kidding?

_“It was one time!”_

And I’m supposed to believe that…why? It took him a year to confess what he did. Why should I believe anything that came out of his mouth?

_“She meant absolutely nothing!”_

Oh, and that makes me feel a whole lot better.

_“It just happened!”_

Yeah. Right. Bull. Shit. Nothing “just happens”. He made a conscious decision to flirt with that empty headed bimbo and then let himself be seduced. Why? To prove to himself that he was still a man? More than just some little fruitcake and prime bait for tabloid fodder?

_“Fuck you!”_

That was the last thing I said to him as I gathered my daughter and the bag that I tossed a few of our belongings into and stormed broken hearted out of the condominium. The last glimpse I had of him was the sight of his shattered expression on that pretty boy face of his. Just the sight of such an uncool Eiri Yuki almost made me think walking out on him had been worth it.

Almost.

But now here I sit in the hallway between the elevator and his place sick to my stomach. The gleaming gold numbers on the door were awash as I sobbed into my arms folded over my raised knees.

After I walked out on Eiri, I dropped Sayo off at my parents’ house and slipped off into the night without a word. My mother’s voice is still clear in my head as she called out to me.

I’m not much of a drinker. Not like Eiri. But I went into the first bar I came across. The next thing I knew it was morning. They sky was just beginning to lighten as the sun peeked above the horizon. My stomach was churning. An amplified bass thundered through my head. Never before have I suffered from such a hangover. I felt like complete and utter crap. I just wanted to roll over and die. And that’s just what I did. Except the die part. Unfortunately. Groaning, I wrapped my arms around my middle and curled up on my side under the thin, scratchy blanket.

I went still.

Wait a minute! My eyes flew open in a panic. I took in the pale peach walls, the armoire opposite the bed, the desk besides it, the nightstand with the black digital clock and lamp, the swinging light secured to the wall above the bed. My heart thudded painfully. Where was I? Oh, God!

I shot up and my stomach lurched. My head spun. Or was it the room? Hissing, I squeezed my eyes shut against the sharp pain that shot up my spine that emanated from my lover back.

“Shit!”

Oh, Jesus! My ass hurt. Not a pleasant uncomfortableness either. More like a skewered piece of meat. I groaned out a breath. Just what the hell did I do last night? And did I really want to know?

The pain eased. My stomach settled and my head cleared enough for me to be able to think at least semi-coherently. I noticed then that the room, it looked like a hotel room, was in complete shambles. My clothes were scattered haphazardly around the room. One of my socks was even hanging from the lampshade. And…

What was that half-hidden under a pair of jeans? (Were those jeans mine? They seemed way too big). Peering closer, what I saw appeared to be brightly colored foil wrappers. Were they from candy? What? Did I have a chocolate binge? I snickered at the thought. Sure wouldn’t be the first time.

I drew a sharp breath as a sharp pain jolted through my head. I clutched my head and groaned. Where was the aspirin when you needed it?

The bed shifted and a sleep muddled voice called out my name. That did not sound like Eiri. My mind went blank. My heart went still and the blood froze in my veins.

Images flashed through my head. Groping hands. Seeking lips. Wrestling tongues. Pounding hearts. Pacing pulses. Labored breath. Heavy pants. Voices calling out in unison. Sharp slap of flesh against flesh. Insistent creaking. Rocking of the bed frame. The sound of the headboard against the wall and a strange bright flash…

Suddenly lightheaded, I could feel my normally tan complexion go white as the color drained from my face. Feeling nauseous but for a completely different reason from my hangover, I reeled.

No. Dear, God, no!

My pulse pounding in my ears, horror an icy grip on my heart, I scrambled out of bed and grabbed the first things I found on the floor. I threw them on as I fled the dimly lit room, tripping over various objects along the way.

I was so disgusted with myself. Had I not just chewed out Eiri for this same exact behavior? What the hell was wrong with me? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I continued to berate myself over my idiotic decision as I raced blinded by my tears through the streets of Tokyo.

At the time, I had no idea where I was going and frankly I did not care. As long as I was not “there”. So, I ran and ran until eventually I became aware of my surroundings, I found myself outside the Sanbancho Daiichi mansions. I was home.

“Shuichi?”

My head jerked up as a gasp escaped my lips. “Yuki,” I whispered. My voice was thick. It did not sound like mine at all. The sight of my beloved made my heart ache terribly as I remembered the scene I awoke to mere hours earlier. My face crumbled. My resolve shattered. While there was no way I can justify or excuse what Eiri did, but I cannot condone his actions either for I will never be able to forgive myself for what I did. We two are guilty of the same crime.

Staggering to my feet, I tried in vain to scrub the tears from my face but they just kept on coming.

With a sob, I launched myself into Eiri’s waiting arms all the while crying, “ _Gomen nasai_!”

What does it say about a couple when the same foolish choice on both sides is the olive branch that brings them together?

I continued to cry as my Yuki held me tightly in his arms. His soothing voice rumbling in my ear.

“Shh, it’s alright now Shuichi. You’re home. Everything’s alright now.”

Home? I liked the sound of that.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	13. Even Monkey’s Fall from Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been eating away at Eiri. He has to come clean. Even if it means losing the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: “Saru Mo Ki Kara Ochiru” by Nova Williams

**Chapter 13: Even Monkey’s fall from Trees (1)**

**The Day Before**

_“I was with Seguchi, satisfied?”_

That was what I told him. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but neither was it the whole truth either. It is true that I was with my sister’s husband that morning. Only it was breakfast we went out for and not brunch. What happened between then and when I got home to find my fascist partner on the verge of tearing me a new one, is not something so easily explainable. No matter what I say, Shuichi will be hurt. Why? Because I am the biggest fool here.

Breakfast that morning started innocently enough, but it did not stay that way for very long. Things took a downward turn very fast. There have only been a handful of people who have supported Shuichi and my relationship. Outside of the fans, my younger brother Tatsuha and Shuichi’s younger sister Maiko and their mother were the only ones who seemed to want to see my relationship with Shuichi to work. Though the others were not against us being together, they were not exactly rooting for us either. Most of them were indifferent. Tohma was the one exception. He was the dark horse. He was one of the first supporters, but then the tides turned and suddenly Tohma was doing everything he could to break us apart. Lately he has been relatively quiet, but his silence broke under the pressure that day at breakfast.

He absolutely refused to understand why I remained with my pink haired baka. Why I allowed myself to be wrapped around his little finger. He did not get why I loved him.

Words were said. Insults thrown. Threats promised. A scene made. I won’t go into the gruesome details, but suffice it to say that when I stormed out of that restaurant, I was ready to pull the horns off a bull as the saying went. Tohma has over-stepped his boundaries on more than one occasion, but this time he went too far.

To make matters worse, at this seedy bar I found, one of the patronesses recognized me. She immediately starting gushing crap about how she ‘absolutely, positively, love, love, loved” me. She prattled on and on and on endlessly about nonsensical drivel. I was in no mood to deal with her or anyone else for that matter. My patience and my temper were already teasing that very fine line. All I wanted was to get drunk and forget the never-ending cycle of negativity my love, admiration, faithfulness and pure “pigheaded, stubbornness” (Tohma’s words not mine) where Shuichi was concerned seemed to elicit from everyone around me. But this chick just could not keep her yap shut. She just would not shut the fuck up and I snapped. For an instant, she reminded me of Shuichi truth be told. Being able to carry on one-sided conversations without seeming to need to draw a single breath.

What happened after that is a little hazy. I don’t recall much. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to if I could.

The next thing I knew, I had that crazy chick pinned against the wall. Her short mini-skirt that left much of her ass hanging out was hiked up under her breasts (what there was of them). Her tiny cotton and lace panties lay torn and scattered at our feet. The white blouse she wore was ripped open. Half of the buttons were missing. One small, perky breast was freed from the confines of the plain white bra and engulfed in my hand. Both of us were panting heavily. She was squealing underneath me. When the reality of the situation finally dawned one me, I felt ill. Physically nauseous. As in sick to my stomach, on the verge of blowing chunks ill. My head swimming, my mind wheeling, I pushed away from her. I pulled out of her still rock hard. She collapsed in that dirty back alley and reached out to me, begging, pleading with me. Tears prickled my eyes. Horror froze the blood in my veins and chocked the air in my lungs. I shook my head. Back and forth. Back and forth. Over and over as I retreated from her and the memory of how fucked I was. I had not climaxed, but that did not matter. Just the fact that my cock had been inside of someone not Shuichi Shindou was an unforgivable sin. One I was not going to be so easily forgiven for. Not by me and not by my baka.

Why? Why would I do something so foolish? I couldn’t even bring myself to believe what I had done in that alley let alone confess to such an outrageous crime. Like Tohma and his self-composed blind ignorance of my relationship with Shuichi, I too refused to acknowledge the truth of what happened that day. But it ate at me. Day after day. Night after night. My sin haunted me. It tormented me, driving me insane little by little, bit by bit. As I made love to my new husband, as I held our baby girl on my arms, the guilt continued to follow me.

I wrestled with the decision to come clean, but every time I started to, I faltered. Just one look into my beloved’s face and I ran away with my tail between my legs. One day, I made a decision. What I was doing at the time, I cannot say, but it did make me realize that I would rather be open and honest with Shuichi and run the risk of losing him forever than to keep secrets from him in order to retain him. It took me a long time to be able to live with this realization. That I might lose the love of my life.

The decision was finally made, but my resignation did not make it any easier to stomach or execute. So what was the catalyst? Watching my peacefully sleeping angel besides me. I couldn’t stand to watch those vividly violet eyes spilling tears or that beautiful face crumble in betrayal. There was no amount of courage in the universe that would get me to watch as I shattered Shuichi’s whole world. So, like the coward that I was, I waited until Shuichi fell asleep one night and then stole into the study. There I composed my requiem. For that was what it was. A life without my Shuichi was no life at all. I might as well be dead.

So I sat there and I wrote and I cried. Knowing full well that by that time tomorrow, I would once again be an eligible bachelor with divorce papers sitting on my desk and my schedule for every Wednesday and every other weekend free to spend with my daughter.

Removing my glasses, I scrubbed my eyes free of the mysterious mist clouding them. Replacing my glasses, I used the mouse to move the cursor and after a moment’s hesitation, clicked the “send” button. Afterwards, I sat back heavily and stared blankly at nothing as the words I just sent my Shuichi echoed in my head.

**Forgive me for**   
**Eyes that wandered to flesh not your own**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Lustful thoughts that drifted far from you**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Hands that explored lands unknown**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Those endless nights of solitude**   
**Forgive me for**   
**A bed that grew empty and cold**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Unbidden thoughts of doubt**   
**Forgive me for**   
**My steely tongue that quarreled with my heart**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Ignoring you when you called out to me**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Allowing my pride to reject you**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Hurting you**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Being weak**   
**Forgive me for**   
**Being me**

I wasn’t even aware of when I started crying.

 

**…To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Japanese proverb: “Everyone makes mistakes/Nobody’s perfect”


	14. Slip Into My Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi is fed up with the way Eiri has been treating him and lets his feelings now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: “Slip Into My Skin” by Nova Williams

**Chapter 14: Slip Into My Skin**

**One Month Later**

To most people, Eiri Yuki was an ideal candidate to be the perfect husband. Most people would be wrong. That is nothing more than the ideological view from admirable fans who know absolutely nothing about the man behind the mask. All they know is what they see. Or what they want to see. There is more to Eiri Yuki then his stunning beauty and incredible talent. But most people don’t care about the truth. All they care about is what they perceive to be the truth. Their version of reality is all that matters. Anything less goes against the natural order of things.

Nora Roberts. JD Robb. Nicholas Sparks. Jane Austen. Georgette Heyer. These are only a few of the great romance authors who compose stories that provide an escape from reality for readers. She is transported into the story and becomes the damsel in distress. She goes through the trials and tribulations and anxiously awaits for Prince Charming to take her away from all her troubles to a place where together the two of them can live happily ever after. Fans of romance novels often assume that just because the authors create such believable tales of romance and love and angst a couple must dig through in order to be together at the end to live that “happily ever after” that we all strive for in life that the authors themselves were just as romantic. I don’t know about other writers, but when it comes to Eiri Yuki, people would be wrong.

My Yuki is the least romantic person in the whole universe. He would not know what “romance” meant if a dictionary slapped him upside the head. Well, okay, maybe I’m exaggerating just a tad. Yuki can be very sweet when he wants to be. A romantic he is deep inside. Way deep down inside. As in at the bottom of a bottomless pit deep inside. The problem with Yuki is that he holds a tremendous amount of fear inside of him. This fear keeps him from expressing all that love and romance that most people believe he to be brimming to the fingertips with.

I understand that, I really do, all too well. Being with Eiri Yuki, one has to be willing to make concessions. Sacrifices have to be made. While I know that he loves me, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve heard him say, “suki dayo” to me and could still make a fist to knock you out. Because of this deeply rooted fear that was born within him out of a horrendous past, Yuki might never be able to say those magical words to me. But I could live with that. Because I know without any acknowledgement from him just what I mean to him and how he feels about me. Anyone can say, “I love you”, but how many of those people can claim they know what it actually means?

I love Eiri Yuki. I love him to death. Always have. Always will. I love his choppy layered dirty blond hair as soft as silk. His cold, piercing hazel eyes golden like the sun. His androgynous face that in sleep resembles an angel and a vicious heartless demonic devil when awake. His finely chiseled cheekbones and sharp jaw. I love the sight of the bright, glowing moon shinning in the midnight sky above his wide rounded shoulder, the taste of tobacco on his lips and the woodsy smell of smoke that clings to him like cologne. I love the heaviness of all 74 kilograms of him pressing down upon me. His hot breath caressing my cheek. His words whispering sweetly in my ear. That low din he makes as he thrusts inside of me over and over and I especially love that beautiful smile that only I get to see. I love him even during those times when he is mean and nasty, when he pushes me away and turns cold. As those sweet nothings he whispers in my ear turn into frozen daggers that pierce my heart one by one, I still love him. When our gentle love making turns into a brutal, bloody massacre, I still love him. Because as demonic as he can be, those times when he shows those fluffy white angel wings and golden halo are becoming more and more frequent. Those times that used to be as few and far in-between as a blue moon, I cherish.

Life with Yuki is becoming more bearable. I suffer less from my bouts of depression and my separation anxiety has all but vanished. But at the beginning, it was not like that. It was so unbelievably difficult, but despite the hardships, I stayed with him because I loved him.

I love him.

No matter who is besides him. No matter who he brings to his bed. I am the only one in his heart. The only one in his eyes. I am the one he loves. The one to have, to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do us part.

But just once I would love for him to slip into my skin. To be able to spend one day in this world, in this relationship in my shoes. Sometimes, I don’t think he gets it. I try and try to explain what his constant yo-yoing emotions do to me, but he always brushes the words aside as if they were nothing. It could be that he does that out of a deep sense of guilt that he tries desperately to ignore, but sometimes, it is so hard to tell.

And yet I still love him.

But here I sit in my home studio. I’m supposed to be working on this new track for our next CD: The Power of Love--“supposed to be” being the key phrase. But instead I write. My pen flying over the sheet of notebook paper.

It’s been a month since Yuki confessed to me in a poem that he had committed the most grievance of sins. A month since I woke besides someone that was not my 186 centimeter tall husband. Things have been rocky, but are slowly getting better. I love him and he loves me. So for the sake of that love and for our daughter, we are working things out. Things have to work out because I belong to him and he to me. Without the other, we both are not whole. Someone once said that you do not need to be a rotting corpse in the ground to be dead and that certainly pertains to Yuki and me. No doubt. So, in order for the healing to continue between us, Yuki needs to know. He needs to know just what it means to be me.

Finished, I set my pen down and picked up my notebook. Sitting back in my chair, I read what I just wrote.

**I wish you diets that do not work**   
**I wish you endless nights of solitude**   
**Weaving grooves into the floor**   
**I wish you a cold bed**

**I wish you a worried lip**   
**I wish you anxiety attacks**   
**I wish you unbidden thoughts of doubt**   
**As you listen to the ticking of the clock**   
**I wish you time trapped in quicksand**

**I wish you a silent partner**   
**I wish you a ceramic figurine**   
**Shattered on the living room floor**   
**I wish you a wash of tears**

**I wish you a groaning floor**   
**I wish you a screaming door**   
**I wish you rustling sheets**   
**As your lungs begin to burn**   
**I wish you an unstable bed**

**I wish you a wall of warmth**   
**Enclosing you from behind**   
**I wish you a heavy vise**   
**Strapped around your waist**   
**I wish you a spoon**   
**But not a fork**   
**I wish you a floral scent**   
**That you would never wear**   
**I wish you a promise**   
**As you smile and say my name**

Satisfied, I tore the sheet out of my notebook and pushing the chair away from the desk, strode out of the studio and purposefully down the hall towards Yuki’s office.

He looked up from his laptop as I entered. “Shu?” he asked, slipping off his glasses. He looked tired. Not unusual when a deadline was fast approaching.

Without a word, I crossed the room and set the paper before him. Then turning, I exited. Feeling suddenly lighter than air, I skipped down the hall humming.

 

* * *

 

Back in the office, Eiri turned his gaze from my retreating form to the paper. Curious, he picked it up and slipped on his glasses. His curiosity turned to confusion as he read the words on the page. His bewilderment soon gave way to realization and became a heavy vise in his chest. All the air expelled out of his lungs as he flopped back in the chair. The poem fluttered out of his hand. A look of torture flickered across his face.

 

* * *

 

I was in the living room playing with Sayo when I sensed a sudden presence behind me. When I turned around, there he was. Eiri sat down on the sofa. I stood up from the floor and sat down beside him, leaving our daughter to play with her mass of toys on the pink blanket my parents bought for her. I curled against Eiri’s side as he draped an arm around my shoulders.

Together we sat there watching our little Sayo as if hypnotized. For how long? I’m not sure. But then the words I’ve been so longing to hear filled the silence.

“Sorry.”

I smiled.

“And--I love you,” he whispered in my ear.

My heart swelled. Beaming, I snuggled deeper into my Yuki.

  
**…To Be Continued…**


	15. From A Certain Point of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi and Eiri exchange views on an anime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: References from "Mirage of Blaze"

**Chapter 15: From a Certain Point of View**

“What a balled up pill,” Shuichi exclaimed as the screen went dark.

“What?” came the question.

Shuichi spared a glance over his shoulder as he reached for the remote sitting on the DVD case on the coffee table. Sucking on a cigarette as he stood leaning casually against the doorjamb in the open doorway that led to their daughter’s room and their respective offices was Eiri. “Kagetora,” Shuichi answered. He pressed the stop button just as the DVD menu popped onto the screen.

Eiri raised an eyebrow. “Who?” he asked against as he pushed away from the door.

Having pressed the eject button, the carousel slid out of the DVD player. The television screen went blue. Shuichi set the remote down on the table and picking up the DVD case, he held it out to his husband.

Rounding the sofa, Eiri grabbed the case. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he blew out a thin stream of grey smoke. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray then turned to regard the case. Having left his glasses back in his study, Eiri held it out at arm’s length.

Shuichi giggled at the sight.

Eiri ignored him. “Mirage of Blaze: Rebels of the River Edge,” he read as he took a seat on the couch.

“In the series,” Shuichi was saying as he sat back down next to his husband, “I felt bad for him.” He took the case and replaced the DVD inside. Snapping it closed, he bent over and set it on the table next to the remote control. Settling back, he snuggled against Eiri’s side.

Eiri draped an arm around Shuichi’s shoulders and held his pink haired baka close.

“I mean,” Shuichi continued, “everybody was making him out to be the bad guy when all he seemed to be was this innocent high school student who didn’t know from nothing. And these guys came across as bent pills(1, 2, 3).”

Eiri raised an eyebrow at Shuichi’s word choices. Definitely too much anime for the brat(4). “And now?”

“Well,” Shuichi said as he tightened his hold on his golden haired lover. “This time, Kagetora was just an ass. Now I understand why they said what they said about him.”

“Hn.”

Shuichi pulled away just enough to gaze into his husband’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“Nothing.”

Shuichi frowned. “No, not ‘nothing’. What were you going to say?”

Eiri heaved a sigh. “I was going to say that you should see things from his point of view.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. “You’re off your nut(5)!” He settled back against Eiri, for which Eiri was grateful. His side had gotten cold.

“Shu, this guy spent his whole life being used and betrayed over and over again and by people he should have been able to trust.”

Put like that, Shuichi thought Kagetora’s behavior might be a little better understood. But still…

“He was afraid.”

Afraid? Shuichi stared up at Eiri’s face. It was hard and tense. He suddenly felt like they were not speaking about _Mirage of Blaze_ and Saburo Kagetora Uesugi anymore--Shuichi wondered suddenly if Eiri was a descendant.

“Afraid of getting too close only to be betrayed yet again,” Eiri was saying as he stared blankly out the wall of windows out at the Tokyo landscape.

“Oh.”

“And then after what happened thirty years ago--it just confirmed what he thought all along. That he can’t trust anyone.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I never thought about it like that.” Shuichi snuggled deeper into Eiri.

He was starting to understand Kagetora a little bit more. Betrayal was the worst feeling in the world, but you were going to be betrayed repeatedly any number of times in your lifetime. It was just something that happened. Some people can deal with it and move on, but for others, it was another wound that refused to heal. Different people deal with situations differently.

“People just don’t understand how much being betrayed can affect a person.”

Shuichi glanced at Eiri again. Again, he got the feeling that Eiri was not speaking to him about Kagetora anymore.

“Especially when that’s all you know--it’s not something you can so easily get over.”

“Hm. I suppose the right person just hasn’t come along then, huh?”

Eiri blinked, brought out of his thoughts. He glanced down at Shuichi and met his wide grin. A rare smile crossed Eiri’s face. “Or maybe he has, but he’s just too stupid to realize it.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off Shuichi’s cheek, “I’m sure when he does realize it, he’ll finally start to heal.” Just as you’ve helped me do, he added silently.

Shuichi touched Eiri’s face. “I love you, Eiri,” he whispered as if hearing the unspoken thought.

Dropping his head, Eiri conked their foreheads together. “Baka,” he chuckled lightly.

The tender moment was suddenly broken by the sound of their daughter wailing from her bedroom. Guess nap time was over.

 

**…To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. “Didn’t know from nothing” – saying from the 1920’s and 1930’s that means, “don’t have any info”  
> 2\. “bent” – “drunk”   
> 3\. “pills” – “an unlikeable person”   
> 4\. These are all terms I took from Chrono Crusade--the dubbed version of the anime. The series takes place in the 1920’s so ADV decided to change the speech to reflect it. There are some great lines in it.   
> 5\. “off your nut” - crazy


	16. A Gravitation Birthday: Shuichi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Shuichi’s birthday and Eiri has a special birthday surprise for the singer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: Annani ishho data noni” by See-Saw

**Chapter 16: A Gravitation Birthday: Shuichi**

“’Kay…”

Shuichi’s voice floated to him as he pushed through the hall door into the living room.

“…Hey Dad…Thanks…Twenty-three…” Shuichi laughed. “Oh, please! That makes you what? Ancient? … Hey, you’re the one who said I was old and since you’re older than me…” Shuichi laughed again. “…No idea…Knowing Eiri, I doubt it.”

Eiri frowned. Just what was the brat talking about?

“…Not really. I mean, more often than not, he forgets…I don’t know. He doesn’t even celebrate his own.”

My own what, Eiri pondered.

“Dad, he doesn’t even celebrate Christmas or Valentines…Dad, you know that he’s a Buddhist monk, right? … It’s complicated…He’d never forget Sayo’s…If he did, I’d kick his ass,” Shuichi confessed in a deadly serious voice.

At the mention of their daughter, Eiri peered around the door and spotted the five month old in her high chair at the dining table eating Cheerios.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. Once you turn twenty-one, there’s no point in keeping track.”

Eiri was starting to get a very bad feeling he had forgotten something important. At least to Shuichi.

“Yes, I do…What?! Dad, I can’t do that…” Shuichi sighed. “Yeah. I suppose, but…Forget it. I’m not going to do something as childish as forgetting Eiri’s birthday just because he forgets mine.”

Oh, sweet Jesus. A pang jolted through Eiri. Do not tell me it’s the sixteenth of April, he pleaded. He cursed silently as he crept back to his study. He could not believe he had not remembered his own husband’s birthday. Again. It was not as if Shuichi ever said anything anyway. Then again, Shuichi should not have to remind him. As his life partner, Eiri should know these things. He had never been very good with dates. The fact that he could never finish his stories by his deadline was proof of that. Or was that just because of his procrastination? Either way, there was no excuse for his continual incompetence. When they first got together, Shuichi nagged him constantly about everything and anything. After a while, Shuichi stopped bothering him with all that stupid, annoying crap. At the time he had been relieved but now he questioned Shuichi’s real reasoning behind that choice. Just now, Shuichi claimed that it did not matter if he remembered his birthday or not. But was that the truth? Sometimes it was hard to tell. Shuichi was a more accomplished liar than anyone gave him credit for.

Closing the study door behind him, Eiri grabbed his cellphone. His fingers danced over the keys.

“Eiri-kun,” purred the overtly familiar voice in his ear.

Eiri could not stop the shudder that raced down his spine. “I need a favor.”

“Oh?” replied the hope filled voice. “And what can I do for my favorite brother-in-law?”

Eiri swallowed the retort that was on the very tip of his tongue. No. No. He had to play nice.

“A good lawyer perhaps? I know-“

Screw being nice. “Shove it, Seguchi,” Eiri snapped. “I am not divorcing Shuichi.”

“…Oh. Too bad,” sighed a disappointed Tohma. “Are you sure? I could get you full custody of little Sayo-“

“Seguchi,” he barked. Eiri could feel his face heating up as his anger fast reached the boiling point. This was the first time speaking to his sister’s husband since the birth of Sayo. That was more than five months ago. Before that it had been when he and Shuichi discussed hiring a surrogate mother. Tohma had been the one who they had entrusted to find the right woman. Before that was at his and Shuichi’s wedding. Tohma had been the one to help him find a ring for Shuichi so he could propose. Truthfully, he and Tohma have not really spoken properly since they went out for breakfast on that infamous day and they both knew why. The less contact he had with the man the better.

“Eiri, all I am saying-“

“I know exactly what you’re saying,” Eiri snapped back. Hearing the continually calm voice just seemed to be making him that much more angry. Calling Tohma had been a very bad idea. “I love my husband. Have since I met him five years ago. You don’t like it? Tough. Shit.”

“He cheated on you, Eiri-kun!”

Eiri’s grip tightened around the phone. “So did I.”

“Eir-“

“And we both know why!”

“…I don’t appreciate what you’re implying.”

Only someone who had known Tohma Seguchi for as long as he has could hear the hardedge that suddenly appeared in Tohma's voice. Usually it warranted caution. Not this time.

“You cheated on Shindou-san of your own-“

“Forget it,” Eiri interrupted briskly. “I'll do it myself.” He ended the call as Tohma sputtered over the line. “Bastard,” he muttered as he tossed his phone lightly onto his desk.

Running his fingers through his hair, Eiri sighed. His gaze roamed about the office, taking in the bookcases, filing cabinets, and the closed closet door to land last on his laptop. Rounding his desk, he pulled his chair up and logged onto the internet. He was not sure if this would make up for all of those missed birthdays or all those other dates that seemed to be important to Shuichi and for the ones he was sure to miss in the future, but he was positive that this little gesture would mean the whole world to Shuichi.

 

* * *

 

**Anna ni issho data no ni**   
**Yuugure wa mou chigau iro**   
**Semete kono tsuki akari no shita de**   
**Shizuka na nemuri wo**

“Don’t you ever get tired of that song?”  
  
At the sound of his husband’s voice, Shuichi raised his head from his sketchbook. He grinned at Eiri as the man stepped into the living room. “Nope.”

Eiri sighed. Of course not. Meaning he would probably have to listen to the damnable song another fifty million times. Just great. Someone, please, kill him now. If he did not know any better, he would swear that Shuichi got off on trying to drive him insane. How Shuichi could listen to the same song fifty million times a day and not lose it was beyond him. God knows he was right on the cusp. Admittedly, he used to like the song, but being forced to listen to it every five minutes was fast forcing him to change his mind.

“Taking a break?” Shuichi asked as Eiri strolled across the room to the dining table where Shuichi had been sketching.

Eiri growled.

Shuichi snickered. He knew what that meant. Eiri was stuck.

Standing behind Shuichi’s chair, Eiri grabbed a fistful of the short pink locks and yanked Shuichi’s head back, probably harder than was necessary, but that was what the baka got for laughing at him.

With a yelp, Shuichi’s hands smacked down on the table top to keep from losing his balance and toppling out of the chair and onto the hardwood floor before they flew to his head. The pencil he had been holding went flying. Neither saw where it went, but they heard its muffled clattered landing. Under the table, his legs shot up and smashed into the underside of the table.

Startled at the noise, Sayo glanced wide eyed at her parents across the table with a cheerio in her hand.

Eiri lowered his head and roughly captured Shuichi’s lips.

A pinkish tint colored Shuichi’s cheeks as Eiri’s lips moved sweetly over his.

By the time Eiri finally pulled away, Shuichi had practically melted into a puddle of goo. Satisfied by the reaction he always seemed to be able to elicit from his husband, Eiri straightened. “Hey, Sayo,” he greeted his daughter in a sing-song voice.

Sayo squealed at the sudden attention.

Eiri chuckled, Dipping his head, he brought his lips to Shuichi’s ear. His whispered voice brushed Shuichi’s cheek, causing the younger man to shudder.

“W-what?” Shuichi stuttered.

“I said, do you think your parents would mind watching their granddaughter for the weekend?”

Pulling away from Eiri so that he could think, Shuichi eyed the man suspiciously. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Of course. They’re glad for any excuse to get to spend time with Sayo. I mean she is their only grandchild. Not like Maiko’s going to have kids any time soon. Why? What’s--?”

Eiri reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

“What’s this?” Shuichi asked as he took the proffered paper. Unfolding it, Shuichi skimmed over what was written on it. His eyes grew wide as the meaning sunk in. “…Eiri…What…?” Shuichi turned to his husband, his eyes wide in wonder. “You…You’re taking me to see _DragonBall Evolution_?”

Eiri lifted a shoulder in an offhanded way.

“But I thought…I thought you hated _DragonBall_.”

“I do,” he affirmed evenly. Truthfully, it did have its good points, but the whole series was redundant. It was basically the same storyline. A bad guy comes to Earth with plans to destroy it. The DragonBall team reunites in order to help save the world. But all the training in the world to become stronger will not help them for Goku will just use that stupid move of his in the end where he gathers the energy from all the living things on the planet to stop the bad guy (whatever it was called). It was like having a premature release during sex. Instead of scaling the mountain, you crossed a plateau. Where was the fun in that? But seeing it was Shuichi’s birthday, he would just have to suffer through it. A happy Shuichi meant a happy Eiri. Besides, maybe this live action movie would live up to the hype. It might just make up for the falsity of the anime.

“Oh, Eiri!” With tears in his eyes, Shuichi jumped out of the chair and threw himself at his husband. “I love you! Thank you!”

Eiri smiled as he wrapped his arms around Shuichi’s waist. “You’re welcome,” he whispered. “Happy Birthday, brat.”

 

**...To Be Continued...**


	17. A Bitter Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anime has Shuichi in tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: references to "Mobil Suit Gundam Seed"

**Chapter 17: A Bitter Sound**

The sound of bitter tears had Eiri sighing. The rapid movement of his fingers over the keyboard stilled. Closing his aching eyes, he said a silent prayer. Slouching back in his chair, he removed his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes with his other hand. Something told him to ignore the sound of weeping, but stupid him, he ignored instead that tiny voice in the back of his mind. Putting his glasses back on, he saved his work and pushing away from the desk, stood up. He made his way out of the office into the hallway towards the living room. The sound of crying grew louder. If the brat woke Sayo, he swore to God that he would give Shuichi something to really cry about.

On the way to the living room, he checked on Sayo just to be sure.

His daughter. His beautiful fifteen month old Sayo Uesugi. She looked remarkably like Shuichi. Right down to the amazing lung capacity and the tears that seemed to be able to appear on command. Sayo was also developing that split personality that her “mama” had. One second she would be depressed and the next as angry as a rampaging bull. She may look like Shuichi, but she dirty blond hair just a tad lighter than his own. Her once dark chocolate brown eyes had lightened to a golden yellow. How that had happened, he had no idea.

Sayo was on her stomach with her hands curled up besides her head. Her puckered little mouth with its ruby red lips were ajar. The blond curls were plastered to the side of her head by sweat. Shuichi had dressed her in a pair of pink footy pajamas that his sister Maiko had bought her goddaughter. Eiri knew his daughter would be out all night and well into the morning by the drool pooling around the blanket by her head and the soft snoring filling the room. A rare smile crossed his face. She really did look amazingly like Shuichi.

Quietly, he backpedaled out of the room and shut the nursery door.

 

* * *

 

Pushing open the hallway door, he stepped into the living room and came to a halt. He heaved a disgusted sigh. Hugging his knees to his chest as he sat on the edge of the couch with tears creating rivers down his cheeks and snot drooling out of his nose, Shuichi was watching an anime he knew was forbidden. “Shuichi Shindou,” he barked.

Shuichi’s head snapped around so fast, it was a wonder the younger man did not develop whiplash. A tear leaked out of one wide violet eye and slipped down his cheek. “Eiri?” His voice was barely above a whisper. He scrubbed at his wet face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eiri crossed towards the television. “You know you aren’t allowed to watch this shit.”

“But it’s my favorite show,” he whined.

“I don’t care.” Eiri swept the remote off the coffee table just as Shuichi made a grab for it. He pointed the control at the DVD player.

“No!” Shuichi dived across the coffee table and plastered himself in front of the entertainment system with his arms held out protectively.

“Move,” Eiri ordered.

“No!” Shuichi hissed. Defiance flashed hotly across his face.

Eiri’s eyes narrowed. “Shuichi Shindou,” he growled, “get out of the way before I kick your scrawny ass to Timbuktu.”

“Go ahead and try!”

Eiri could feel a looming headache and it had pink hair and purple eyes. “Damned brat,” he muttered. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

Reeling from confusion, Shuichi cocked his head to the side. “Huh?”

“Every single time you insist on watching this show, you wind up turning into this big blubbery mess and yet you claim it’s your favorite show.”

“But that’s why!”

“Huh?”

Shuichi threw his hands up. He tried and tried, but every time he went to explain why he loved a certain anime or manga so much, Eiri just scoffed and dropped the subject.

“Eiri, _Mobil Suit Gundam Seed_ is about the heart wrenching struggle-“

“Don’t care,” Eiri interrupted.

“But-!”

“Drop it.” Eiri massaged his temples. He lowered the remote. “Fine. Fine!” H was so tired of arguing over this same shit with Shuichi. Tossing the remote onto the couch, he turned his back on his brat and started towards his office. He had a deadline fast approaching. “Watch the damned thing. I don’t care.”

He heard Shuichi squeal behind him.

“Just don’t,” he continued, hardening his voice, “come crying to me later about how sad it is that best friends have no other option but to try to kill one another.”

A sound of wonder had Eiri stilling.

“Eiri!”

Ah shit, Eiri thought.

“Eiri! I love-! Umph!”

His eye twitching, Eiri stopped his husband’s flying love tackle with a hand to Shuichi’s face. “Don’t read too much into it,” he said, “I just don’t want your snot all over me.”

Shuichi giggled as he stepped back. “Too late,” he sang.

“Huh?”

As Shuichi hummed and skipped back around the couch to finish watching his show, Eiri glanced at his hand. His mouth turned up in disgust. He sneered at Shuichi as he wiped his booger covered hand on his shirt.

“Brat.”

Shuichi, hugging his arms around his knees, stuck out his tongue at him as he rocked back and forth on the couch.

It was a good thing it was Shuichi’s turn to do the laundry in the morning, he decided as he made his way to his office.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	18. True Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi is frantic over something he lost.

**Chapter 18: True Colors**

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Eiri watched the scene in growing amusement from the safety of the balcony outside their condominium located on the fifteenth floor of Daiichi Mansions in Chiyoda-ku. Leaning against the raining with his legs stretched out before him and his ankles crossed, Eiri wrapped his right arm around his middle while he brought his lit cigarette to his lips.

“Where the bloody hell is it?!”

Eiri was torn between sighing and wanting to laugh.

Shuichi raced by in a blur of color and vanished from view within the master closet. Moments later, various articles of clothing came flying out.

Taking a drag off his cigarette, Eiri watched the growing mess in fascination. He flicked the gathering ashes from the tip of his cigarette over the railing and into the garden on the other side. Tipping his head back, he blew a thin stream of grey smoke into the cool autumn air. A breeze happened by and took hold of the noxious fumes. The smoke was whipped to and fro until it was no more.

“Eiri!”

Rolling his eyes, Eiri unfurled himself and turned his back to the chaotic catastrophe unfolding within the twenty-six square meter master bedroom suite. “Baka,” he mumbled around his cigarette. He still believed that Shuichi would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his neck.

Something crashed.

Eiri cringed, but did not turn around.

Something smashed.

Eiri closed his eyes and said a silent prayer as he fought the urge to turn around to see what kind of mayhem his husband was up to. When there was a thud against the sliding door, Eiri had it. Pushing away from the railing, he crushed his smoldering cigarette against the railing with a sound curse. Turning, he crossed the balcony, pausing with a hand on the door and took a deep breath. Did he really want to risk life and limb to venture inside? A third crashing sound made up his mind for him.

“What the bloody hell,” Eiri blasted as soon as he stepped back into the condo and took in the full extent of Shuichi’s hellish rampage.

The bedroom was an utter mess. It reminded him off those houses that had been demolished by a hurricane that he saw on the news. Half of the contents of the closet were scattered every which way. They were not only littering the floor, but also covered the bed and were hanging from various items around the room. One of Shuichi’s undershirts was draped on the corner of the mirror. The full length mirror was secured to the wall on the opposite side of the room from the closet. The bed that Eiri had forced Shuichi to make just an hour ago had been unmade. The pillows were lying in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed. The blankets had been tossed over the end of the bed in a pool of color.

More than half of the drawers in the dresser were hanging open, their contents spilling out as if the dresser had vomited. Shuichi’s tiny jewelry box was sitting precariously on the edge of the dresser. The various pieces of jewelry were scattered about, glittering in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Both of their prescription vials were tipped onto their sides. With their lids open, the pills were mixed together in a colorful pile.

“Jesus, Shuichi! What the hell are you doing?” he growled.

“I can’t find them,” Shuichi said as he vanished once more into the closet.

Eiri watched as several more articles of clothing came flying out. A pair of black stretchy pants landed on his head. “Can’t find what?” he asked as he tossed the pants onto the floor. He could not believe that there was anything left in the closet for Shuichi to toss.

“My contacts!”

Eiri raised an eyebrow. “This is why you trashed the bedroom?” He shook his head with a snorted scoff as he sat down on the one clear spot on the bed. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “Damn brat.”

“Dammit all to hell!”

With a sigh, Eiri flopped backwards onto the bed. Ridiculous. He knew it’d been only a matter of time. Pushing up onto his elbows, Eiri watched his husband storm out of the closet and maneuver his way through the bedroom, stepping over the piles of clothing and whatnot, and into the master bathroom. Eiri sighed. “Why don’t you just wear your glasses?”

“What?! Hell. No.”

“And why not?”

“Because they make me look like a geek.”

“Oh, please,” Eiri rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been wearing contacts my entire life.”

“And I’ve worn glasses mine. Does that make me a geek?”

There was a gasp then Shuichi reappeared. With a look of horror of his face, he rushed to Eiri’s side and collapsed onto the floor (located somewhere under all the clothes) and strapped himself around his husband’s legs. “Oh, no, Eiri! No! No! No! No! No! You look good in glasses!”

“Uh, huh.” He swept his hand over Shuichi’s pink locks. It was about time for his lithe singer to the salon. His black roots were beginning to show.

“I just…”

“Just what?”

“…I always…”

Eiri sighed.

“I don’t want to look like a pansy~y~y,” Shuichi cried in a rush.

Eiri chocked. “What?”

Shuichi lifted his head and gazed up at him with tear filled black eyes. His chin trembled.

“Oh, boy.” Eiri closed his eyes. “Shu.” Opening his eyes, he stared down at his baka. “I think…it’s a little too late for that.”

Shuichi blinked. A blank look crossed his face. “What?!” Pushing away from Eiri forcefully, Shuichi slapped his leg. “Jerk!”

Eiri chuckled.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	19. Between the Devil and the Blue Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoshio returns, but not with good tidings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: "Gravitation" manga volume 4

**Chapter 19: Between the Devil and the Blue Sea**

“Sir, this is Yuri Akizuki from the front desk.”

Shuichi blinked. “What happened to Naoki-kun?”

“He’s off today. His sister’s getting married,” Yuri answered in a bored matter of fact tone.

“That’s right! He said something about that the other day, but didn’t their father pass away not too long ago?”

“Yes, sir. Quite suddenly I believe.”

“Wow. That sucks.” Shuichi folded a leg beneath him as he sat on the stool in the kitchen. “So,” he continued a little too brightly. The air had become quite gloomy. Not at all the kind of mood he wanted to fall into after this morning’s sensuous wake up call. He was becoming flustered just remembering being tasted and teased and violated. “What’s up?” he asked after violently clearing his throat. God! I hope Yuri didn’t notice, Shuichi thought.

“There was a delivery for you, sir.”

“…A delivery? For me?”

“Yes, sir. Would you like for me to have it brought up, or…?”

“Uhm…” Shuichi thought about that. Sayo was napping and Eiri was in the study working on his novel. There would be hell to pay if either of them were bothered. So maybe it would be best if instead of Yuri coming up here, he went down to the lobby. “No, I’ll come down there.”

“Very good, sir.”

Shuichi pushed the talk button ending the call. Standing up, he crossed the kitchen and placed the handset in the cradle.

He wondered what this delivery was. As far as he knew, he wasn’t expecting anything. He hadn’t ordered anything or entered any contests. Maybe his mother sent him something. Possible but unlikely because she would have said something. Maybe his secret admirer sent him flowers again. Just like he did for last Valentine’s Day. Shuichi grinned. Violet eyes sparkled mischievously. Eiri would completely have kittens. He was a very jealous and very possessive individual.

Exiting the kitchen, Shuichi made for the foyer where he slid into his sneakers. Grabbing his keys, just in case he locked himself out (which has happened embarrassingly enough), he stepped out into the hallways and shut the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi skipped out of the elevator and up to the counter. “Hello?” he called. Grabbing the inner edge of the polished marble top, he rose up on his toes and peered over the counter. “Yuri?” Dropping back down, he planted one hand on his hip and scratched his head in confusion. Had Yuri gone to take a dump, or something? “Strange.”

“Looking for someone?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Hm?” He was met with dark sparkling eyes and a wide toothy grin.

“Hey,” said the deep baritone voice.

Shuichi gasped. His eyes went wide. “Oh. My. God. Yoshi!” Ecstatic at being able to see one of his best friends for the first time in fourteen months, Shuichi threw himself at the taller, older male with a cry.

Yoshio staggered under the sudden weight, but managed to catch himself. His face softened as he hugged Shuichi back. Albeit one-handed. Burying his face in Shuichi’s soft pink locks, he breathed in the herbal scent.

Grinning, Shuichi pulled away enough to glance up at Yoshio. “You jerk! What’re you doing here? When did you get into town?”

“Late last night.”

“You should’ve called!”

“Mm, yeah, but then I wouldn’t have been able to surprise you.”

Shuichi laughed. Hugging Yoshio’s arm to his chest, he glanced up at his friend with a wide toothy grin. “You can stay right?”

Yoshio’s heart skipped a beat. Was it hot in here? Or was it just him? Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Of course.”

The pout transformed into a grin. “Cool!” He giggled. “C’mon!” Shuichi pulled an all too willing Yoshio to the elevator bank.

Yoshio breathed a sigh of relief. His heart was still racing though. Now he knew why everybody who met Shuichi couldn’t help but like him. How could you not? He just hoped Shuichi still liked him by the end of the day.

 

* * *

 

Yoshio whistled as he stepped into the condo behind Shuichi. “Wow.”

“What d’ya think?” Shuichi asked.

“Impressive.”

“Thanks.” Shuichi beamed. He shut and locked the door.

“You live here with your daughter?”

“Yup. Just me, Sayo and of course Eiri.”

Yoshio chocked. “Yu-Yuki?”

Shuichi straightened from changing into his slippers. He glanced over his shoulder at his old friend with a puzzled expression on his face. “Well, yeah. He is my husband.”

“But I thought, I mean…”

“Huh?”

Yoshio shook his mixed bag of thoughts and emotions aside and plastered a smile on his face. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Shuichi studied Yoshio in silence for a few seconds longer. “Okay,” he said brightly. He started to turn away, but something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. When he turned back, there was a bouquet of beautiful red roses in full bloom, purple irises and in the center, a single white lily. His eyes grew wide. “Yoshi? Wha-?”

Yoshio averted his gaze in embarrassment. Shrugging, he scratched his cheek. “I saw them and though of you. Besides, your birthday was not too long ago, right?”

“Oh! Yoshi! They’re beautiful. Thank you.” Shuichi rose up on his toes and pressed his lips against Yoshio’s stubble filled cheek. A strong sensation of déjà vu washed over him. Thrown, Shuichi slowly lowered himself back to the floor.

Seeing the troubled look on his face, Yoshio dropped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Shu? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Shuichi replied brightly, snapping out of his thoughts. But what was that? Strange. Very strange. That was the first time he’d kissed Yoshio so why would he get a feeling, a very strong feeling, of familiarity? Maybe it had to do with the unshaven aspect. He and Eiri had certainly had “relations” before either of them had properly washed in the morning. Yeah. That had to be it. Eiri had the tendency to get off on taking him when he was still scratchy. Shaking the lingering feeling off, Shuichi started towards the kitchen. “Let’s get these in some water.”

“…Yeah.”

There was the sound of a cupboard opening and then rattling and clinking dishes.

Over the sound of running water, Shuichi called out to him. “Would you like some tea?”

“Sure,” Yoshio called back as he made his way to the kitchen. Standing in the threshold between the kitchen and the dining room, he watched as Shuichi peeled away the cellophane wrapper from around the flowers and then put the bouquet in the water filled crystal vase. Seeing the smile on Shuichi’s face, the genuine pleasure at his presence, guilt gnawed its way through him. “Shu.”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Confused, Shuichi glanced at his old friend briefly as he carried the vase passed him into the dining room. “What for?”

Yoshio reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out an envelope.

“What’s that? Get me a card, too?” Shuichi teased.

“No.”

The serious expression on Yoshio’s face wilted the smile on Shuichi’s face. “Yoshi?”

“Shu…I know we went over this before, but…will you reconsider?”

Shuichi tilted his head. “Reconsider what?”

“Doing a spread in _Blaze_.”

“Yoshi,” Shuichi sighed.

“Please, Shu! I’m begging you. The premier issue was our biggest seller and it was all thanks to that interview you gave!”

Shuichi saw the desperation on Yoshio’s face. But as much as he wished he could help him, he just could not do it and it had nothing to do with Eiri, even though his husband would have his head on a platter. He just did not feel comfortable taking his clothes off in front of strangers just so some perverts had something to masturbate to. As much as he loved Yoshio and as much as he wanted Yoshio’s magazine to do well (despite it being a gay porn rag), Shuichi just could not do it. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

_“Thanks for waiting guys.”_

_“It’s time to earn those dollars. Take care of him.”_

_“It’s shocking enough that you were getting down with some dude…But how are people going to react when they find out it’s with a famous lady-killer?”_

_“What’s that I hear? Could it be Bad Luck’s career ending?”_

_“If I told everyone your little secret, the press would bury you in a second.”_

_“I’m sorry Eiri Yuki has to suffer because of you. He seems all right.”_

_“Maybe if you’re a good boy and do as you’re told, I’ll leave him out of it.”_

Hand-

-touching him-

-in places they shouldn’t…

Hot breath-

-against his neck…

As the memories broke through the barrier that had been erected all those years ago, the room spun. The floor tilted.

The vase slipped out of Shuichi’s hands and exploded against the floor.

Yoshio became alarmed as Shuichi’s naturally tan complexion went white. Even his lips were pale. “Shu? Shuichi! What’s-?”

Shuichi’s stomach churned. He felt feverish. Shaking his head vigorously, Shuichi cried softly. “I-I can’t. I just--I can’t.” The first tear slid down his cheek.

“Shu…”

Shuichi recoiled from his friend’s outstretched hand. His stomach rolled. Slapping a hand over his mouth, he spun about and tore through the dining room. He pushed open the door and vanished down the darkened hall way that led to the master bedroom suite.

“Shu…” Yoshio whispered after his friend. He sighed. Lifting the white envelope up, he stared at it. His gaze shifted to the door through which Shuichi had disappeared. He tightened his grip on the envelope. “I’m sorry.” The last thing he wanted was to hurt Shuichi anymore than he obviously had, but he had to do this. He had to. Without Shuichi, Blaze was history and with the failure of his magazine, he would lose everything. Stepping forward, Yoshio laid the envelope on that table. With one last glance at the door, Yoshio turned and left the condo.

 

* * *

 

The door creaked open. Yawning, Eiri stepped out into the living room. He’d been working on his novel since that wakeup call he gave Shuichi early that morning and his eyes had finally give out. “Shu? What’s all the noise? I swear if you wake up Sayo-“

He stopped dead. Hazel eyes golden like the sun took in the mess under the dining table. A mass of flowers sat in a puddle of water and crystal shards. His eyes narrowed.

“Oh, what the hell,” he growled.

If that mess was the vase he spent all that money on, he swore to God, Shuichi was dead.

“Sh-!”

Shuichi’s name died on his lips when he caught sight of the envelope on the table. Crossing the room, he skirted the mess and picked up the envelope. A card? He turned it over. Nothing. It was blank. Curious, he lifted the flap and--It wasn’t card. He pulled out what turned out to be a photograph. Eiri’s eyes grew wide. The photo shook in his hand.

“What the fuck! What the bloody hell is this?!”

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	20. Compromises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi and Eiri take some time to iron out a few things.

**Chapter 20: Compromises**

**One Week Later**

“Eiri?” Shuichi’s voice shattered the peaceful silence that had settled around the couple.

Because the two of them had not had a proper night out since Sayo was born, Shuichi decided to surprise his husband with a romantic dinner for two at an exclusive, high-class Italian restaurant not too far from their place that opened recently to rave reviews. Unfortunately, after what happened the week prior, neither was in the mood, so instead, a quick call was made and Shuichi had dinner waiting when Eiri returned from his appointment with his psychiatrist.

“Don’t worry. I had it delivered,” he assured his husband when the man eyed the meal suspiciously.

Originally, Maiko was going to baby-sit her niece at their place, but with the change in plans, it was decided that Sayo would spend the night at her grandparents’ house. Mrs. Shindou was absolutely thrilled at being able to spend time with her granddaughter.

“Hm?”

“Do you--?” Shuichi was not sure if he wanted to ask. It was not the question so much as the answer that bothered him.

“What?” Eiri peered down at the pink head snuggled against his bare chest. He lazily stroked the arm wrapped around him waist. The thick plaster of the cast stopped his movements. Carefully so he did not hurt Shuichi anymore than he already had, Eiri lightly trailed his hand down the cast. The heavy hand of guilt gripped his heart. Was he really responsible for this? God, what had he done?

“--hate me?” The question was asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

The question threw Eiri for a loop so he could not say anything right away. He was too astonished--shocked--bewildered--dismayed… Eiri was not sure how he felt--emotionally anyway. Physically, he felt like beating the crap out of Shuichi. It was a given that Shuichi would be an annoying brat. Now “asinine” could be added to the list. Something inside Eiri snapped. “You fucking little idiot!”

Shuichi stilled against him.

“You think I’d still be with you if I hated you?” Eiri shot back hotly.

Shuichi cowered into the smallest possible target he could in the face of Eiri’s anger. He knew he had been out of line. Eiri loved him; he knew that, but after what happened, after what was revealed just seven short days ago, Shuichi had to be sure, even if the question got his ass kicked in.

Eiri tightened his arm around his lithe baka. With his other hand, he caught Shuichi’s chin and forced him to look at him, but Shuichi fought against the action. Giving up, Eiri could only sigh. His anger drained out of him in one fell swoop. He hugged both arms tightly around Shuichi, his life partner and husband, effectively entrapping him and rested his chin on top of Shuichi’s head. “If I didn't love you, I would’ve drop kicked your sorry ass a long time ago,” he confessed firmly.

The confession took Shuichi by surprise. He pulled out of Eiri’s arms and holding himself up above the older man by his good arm, Shuichi glanced down at Eiri with wide eyes. Of course Eiri loved him--no shocker there. It was just hearing him actually say the words. “Eiri,” he breathed.

Eiri’s face softened as he glanced up into Shuichi’s wonder filled face and almost instantaneously lost himself in those vividly violet eyes glistening with unshed tears. He could never stay angry at the baka for very long. It was hard not to be anything other than content (or in his case horny) around the vivacious singer. Lifting a hand, he cupped Shuichi's cheek. With his thumb, he brushed away the stray tears that escaped. Shuichi tipped his head into that intimate touch. Eiri pulled Shuichi down to him and brought their lips together. It was a slow, sensuous kiss that sent tingles through both men. A rosy blush colored Shuichi’s cheeks. It was astonishing how adorably cute he found Shuichi, more so when Shuichi was embarrassed.

Pulling away, Eiri’s gaze shifted to the ugly discoloration marring the left side of Shuichi’s otherwise perfect face. The grip around his heart tightened.

“Eiri?” Shuichi called carefully as he watched the blank expression roll onto Eiri’s face.

Lifting his other hand, Eiri gently brushed the bruise that he was responsible for creating.

Shuichi winced at the feathery touch with a hiss.

Eiri cringed. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“What? No! No! No! No! No! No! No! I’d never hate you, Eiri! Never!” Shuichi slammed their lips together. “I love you. I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“That makes one of us,” Eiri replied sadly.

“Eiri.”

Eiri pulled Shuichi back down to the bed. He planted a kiss on Shuichi’s soft pink locks as Shuichi curled his naked body around him. He wrapped his casted arm around Eiri’s waist and rested his head on Eiri’s chest. It was the exact position he had been in earlier. The thumping of his beloved’s heart echoed in Shuichi’s ear. It brought a smiled to his face.

“Does it hurt?” Eiri’s whispered voice broke the sweet silence.

Shuichi did not have to ask to know what Eiri was talking about. He shook his head in denial.

Eiri stared up at the ceiling where shadows danced. It was all his fault. If he had not of let Tohma get to him that day, Shuichi would not be laying here in his arms broken.

“I’m not ‘broken’, Eiri.”

Eiri did not realize he had spoken aloud. “Shu…”

Shuichi tipped his head back and glanced deeply into those golden orbs. “It was an accident.”

That may be so, for the punch that bruised his Shuichi’s cheek and caused his arm to twist at an unnatural angle had been meant for that bastard Yoshio Nakamura, but that did not change the fact that he hurt his Shuichi. He would never be able to forgive himself. “Why did you stop me?” Eiri couldn’t help but growl.

Shuichi dropped his gaze. “Because he’s my friend.”

That infuriated Eiri. Even after everything that man did, Shuichi still forgave him. It was one of the traits Eiri loved the most about Shuichi, even if it did piss him off. Eiri would never understand how Shuichi could forgive those who wronged him. “Next time, don’t stop me.”

Silence.

Eiri poked a finger into Shuichi’s cheek.

Shuichi cried out in pain. He slapped Eiri’s hand away.

“Hear me? That bastard is _not_ allowed anywhere _near_ this building _or_ you ever again. I do not want you to have anything to do with him.” Just the thought of that sorry son of a bitch sent his blood boiling over with rage.

“What? But, Eiri-!”

“Understand?” Eiri snapped.

Shuichi gulped at the golden flames licking those beautiful hazel eyes. He nodded. Yoshio made some unfortunate choices and took advantage of their friendship, but Shuichi could not bring himself to hate him. He just could not do it. But if Eiri did not want him to see Yoshio, then he could do nothing but obey.

Eiri made a noise of disgust at the obvious reluctance. He loved Shuichi. Had since the moment he first laid eyes on the singer. All he wanted was to forever see him smile. When Shuichi was happy, he was happy. But despite, or maybe because of, such intense feelings for the twenty-three year old, Eiri had no qualms about being just a little selfish. He had no desire, whatsoever, to act selfless about this like the characters in one of his novels. Like, if Shuichi wanted to not do things that upset him then Eiri had no other option then to do the same and allow Shuichi to continue seeing Yoshio, even though that was that last thing Eiri wanted to do. He was not that kindhearted. “Shu, he took advantage of you when you were drunk and then he took a photo that he could use as blackmail, which he did,” Eiri added angrily. “His supposed best friend.”

Shuichi tightened his grip on Eiri, but stopped with a hiss when the action caused his arm to throb in agonizing pain. He bit back a cry as tears filled his eyes. Whether they were from the pain in his arm or in his heart, he did not know. “I know,” he choked.

Eiri sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair. Shuichi and Yoshio Nakamura have been friends since they were three, according to Shuichi. So, he could not help but feel partially responsible for their split. He never really had any friends. Especially not any close friendships like Shuichi could form with just about anyone. But it never bothered him. Not really. He’d never been a very social individual anyway. The only real friend he ever had was Tohma. So he understood the reluctance Shuichi had about breaking off all further contact with his friend. “I shouldn’t’ve let Seguchi get to me,” he said. How many times has he said this same line? No matter how many times it turned out to be, one thing did not change. None of this would be happening now.

“What did he say?”

Truthfully, Eiri could not remember exactly what it was Tohma said about Shuichi that stirred Eiri‘s ire towards the man. All he knew was that once again, his sister’s husband had insulted Shuichi--the love of his life.

Though Ryuichi was Shuichi’s hero, the man who changed his life, Tohma was the man who inspired him to start playing the synthesizer. Having the person he aspired to be (1) turn out to be not just his boss, but also his lover’s brother-in-law made the rejection hurt on two fronts. “He hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yuki,” Shuichi scolded.

“Look, Seguchi--Okay, from a certain point of view that may be true.”

There was a pang in Shuichi’s heart.

“But--he--tolerates you because outside of Nittle Grasper, Bad Luck is NG’s biggest group.”

At one point in time that may have been true, Shuichi thought--before their popularity started to slide. Maybe that was why Tohma could barely stand the sight of him anymore. What use did Shuichi have to the president of the record company now that Bad Luck’s sales have slipped by at least fifty percent? “Oh, great. Yeah. So he likes me because I was his cash cow.”

“Pretty much.”

“Jerk,” Shuichi muttered, slapping Eiri playfully.

Eiri chuckled.

Shuichi played with the baby fine blond hairs on Eiri’s chest.

“But really,” Eiri continued. He combed Shuichi’s pink locks back off his forehead. “He’s just--over-protective.”

“Oh. You mean because of-”

“Yeah.” Eiri heaved a sigh. “And I guess I can’t blame him.” He tightened his grip. “I would be too in his shoes.” Tohma just wanted to protect him from getting hurt again.

“…Yeah…”

“…It’s why I ran from my feelings for you for so long.”

Shuichi shifted his head so that he could glance back up into Eiri’s face without leaving the coziness and warmth of his body pillow.

“The more I fell in love with you, the more I started to remember. With the memories came…” Eiri searched for the proper word choice to describe that stressful time.

“…Yeah.” Shuichi got it. He really did. It did not make it any easier to stomach the fact that one of his idols and now brother-in-law despised the ground he walked on, though.

“But it was because of his over-protectiveness for me that made him spout that crap at breakfast. We’ve been together four years. Four years!”

“Five.”

Eiri blinked down at him. “What?”

“We’ve been together five years. I was eighteen when we got together and I’m twenty-three now.”

Eiri rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbled.

Shuichi sighed. “So, what did you say?”

It took a moment for Eiri’s brain to switch gears. “I told him to go to Hell. That you’re a permanent part of my life and if he can’t accept that, accept you, he isn’t accepting me.” He may not remember the crap Tohma had spewed, but he sure as hell could remember what his response was.

Shuichi’s eyes grew wide in wonder. “Eiri.”

Eiri trailed his fingers down Shuichi’s face, being careful of the bruise. He tried to ignore how warm his face felt. “Don’t question my feelings for you. Okay?”

Shuichi smiled brightly. Even he could tell he was glowing. “Never.”

“Good.”

Then Shuichi’s face fell. “So--you really don’t hate me for-”

“Look, if I had a yen for every stupid, idiotic decision you made, I would be rich a hundred times over.”

“You are rich a hundred times over.”

Eiri rolled his eyes. “Okay, a trillion times over then.”

Shuichi stuck out his tongue.

Eiri’s chuckle turned into a sigh. “Besides, it’s my fault. I pushed you into it.”

“Eiri-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Eiri was sick of discussing this topic. “It’s over and done with.” He cupped Shuichi’s chin within his firm grip and pressed their lips together. “I’ll forgive you if you’ll do the same.” He searched Shuichi’s face.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Shuichi admitted. “I love you, Eiri.”

“Me, too…Baka.”

Shuichi giggled. He settled back against Eiri with a content sigh. As much as he did not like to break the mood, there was still something they had to talk about. “I talked to Yoshio earlier.”

Eiri’s hold on Shuichi became just a tad more restrictive and the expression on his face became unreadable. “We agreed that we’d use one of the pictures I took for your birthday present for the issue of Blaze I was supposed to be in.” They could not very well have a photo shoot with him looking like this. Well, technically, with a little creativity and ingenuity he could, but he had a feeling that Yoshio wanted to keep breathing for a little while longer.

His Eiri, so overprotective.

Eiri gave Shuichi a sharp look.

Over his dead body. Porn magazine though _Blaze_ may be, some of those photos in the magazine Shuichi created for him were too graphic. Even for _Blaze_.

“N-n-not all of them,” Shuichi exclaimed blushing hotly. “I-I-I told him that you’d be the one to choose!”

Eiri nodded. He pulled Shuichi back down against him. He felt Shuichi yawn. There would be more compromises he would be outlining for Shuichi being on the cover of Yoshio’s magazine and then that would be it. If Yoshio tried anymore of the same he pulled last week, he would not get away with just a couple black eyes, shattered cheek bone, split lip and several cracked ribs (those were just the injuries Yoshio occurred that Eiri could remember). “Bastard.” The sound of soft snoring cut into his thoughts. “Shu? Shu.” Typical. Shuichi fell asleep. Oh, well. He’d let him sleep. For now anyways.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	21. Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi and Eiri throw around names for Shuichi’s new cologne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: Section from “Lorcán’s Secret”

**Chapter 21: Lover**

_“Goddammit,” Alex snapped. “You were there! You saw she was pregnant! You saw what was going on! You knew what was happening and yet you did nothing and now Anna’s gone!” His voice cracked as the harshness of reality gripped his heart. Tears flooded his face. He was just glad that Ve, his stepdaughter, had been able to perform an emergency C-section to save the triplets before something happened to them as well. If he would have lost them as well, he was not sure what he would have done._

_Rionya went still. “What do you mean gone?”_

_Alex impatiently swept at the tears as they flowed down his face. “What the hell did you do to her?” By Ve’s best guess, it had been some sort of illusionment spell that caused Anna’s death, but she could not be entirely sure._

_Rionya slumped down onto the bed and dropped her head in her hands, defeated and tired. “I tried,” she muttered. “I didn’t want anything to do with their stupid plan, but I didn’t have a choice.”_

_Taking a knee before his mother, Alex held her hands gently within his. He searched her face. “Why’re they doing this?” he asked her in a low beseeching voice. “I know you know what they’re doing is wrong! They’ve become corrupt! You know it! I know you do!”_

_Tearing her gaze away from her son’s, Rionya shook her head. With tears staining her cheeks, she whispered softly, “I’m sorry, Alex. Really I am. You’re right. You are right,” she echoed with a laugh that sounded anything but happy. “Everything they’ve done…” She pried a hand out of Alex’s grip and brushed away her tears. “Everything they’ve done since that day in that park goes against the very laws they created, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”_

_Aghast, Rionya’s hands slid out of her son’s loosened grip. He searched her face meticulously. “Mother…”_

_Suddenly, she stood up, pushing him aside none too gently. Her tears dried as she fixed herself. “You’d better leave,” she told the younger man, who lay sprawled on the floor. “Your father has a warrant out for your arrest.”_

_Alex jumped to his feet. “What?!”_

_Rionya produced a hair tie out of thin air and turning around tied her long hair back. “I’m sorry, David Alexander,” she told him, not a thread of warmth in her voice anymore. “I wish I could help you. For that, I am sorry.” She turned her back on her baby boy and started for the door._

_Alex’s hands curled into fists. “So am I, Mother. So, am I,” he whispered_.  **(1)**

Eiri milled over his latest--what was it? A story? Well, yes, but it was so much more than that. Novel? Nope. Still sounded wrong. It was closer than just calling it a “story”. No, this latest work of his was fast becoming an epic and not an ordinary one at that. For this story, Eiri Yuki was stepping out of his comfort level and delving into unchartered territory. Shuichi was always telling him that he thought it was ironic for someone who was such an unromantic person to be a best-selling romance author. And truthfully, Eiri was getting sick and tired of the monotony and redundancy of writing about love affairs between the uptown girl and the boy from across the tracks. The Romeo and Juliet theme was getting old.

Time for a change.

As a singer, Shuichi could sympathize with his plight and supported his foray into the fantasy genre. He had to admit though, that his epic novel just might be a tad confusing, since it jumped back and forth in time and just when you thought you knew what was going on--BAM! The rug was pulled out from underneath you. He would have to see what Mizuki thought of it. If she didn’t much care for it, tough. Shuichi loved what little he had read so far and that was all that mattered.

Speaking of the brat, the other day Shuichi suggested that he write a yaoi novel. At the time, he told Shuichi to go to hell. That was never going to happen. Just because he was having a love affair with a man did not mean that he had to become the smut king. But now he was not so sure. Would it so bad? It was not as if he was lacking in male-on-male knowledge. Besides, it would make Shuichi happy.

“Oh! Eiri.”

His husband’s voice dragged him out of his thoughts. “What?”

“You know who called earlier?” Shuichi danced into the living room.

“Who?”

“Hideyuki.”

His manuscript forgotten, Eiri marked his place. “Who?” he asked suspiciously.

Shuichi rolled his eyes at Eiri’s tone. “The guy I’m working with on my cologne?”

“Oh,” Eiri commented in a suddenly bored tone. The guy was a total fairy--as in full blown, way out there--and he apparently had a major crush on Shuichi, but would not dare make a move for fear of winding up on life support like Yoshio Nakamura almost did. The man was frightened as hell of Eiri. Or more accurately, what Eiri would do to him--according to Shuichi anyway--not that Eiri could blame the man. Basically, that made Hideyuki Asotake less a threat than a worm on the sidewalk. “And?”

“Apparently the samples came in.”

“Hm. That was fast.” Eiri picked up the manuscript from his lap and tossed it lightly onto the coffee table.

“I’m still not sure what to call it.”

A sly grin crept onto Eiri’s face. “How ‘bout Baka?” **(2)**

“Ha. Ha,” Shuichi commented dryly.

“I think it has a nice ring to it,” Eiri snickered.

“Yeah, you would.”

Still laughing, Eiri suggested, “There’s always, ‘Kuso gaki’.”  **(3)**

Shuichi rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” His lips twitched.

His eyes shining in amusement, Eiri asked, “Or would you prefer, ‘Yaro’?”  **(4)**

Heaving a sigh, Shuichi flopped down onto the sofa. He started to cross his arms, but a sharp pain that shot up his arm halted the movement. “Not helping, Eiri,” he said once the pain subsided.

Eiri gave Shuichi a sharp look, but said nothing. Instead, he continued with the teasing. “Oh! How about this? ‘Fukano’?”  **(5)**

“What kind of name is that?”

“Hey, I think it’s perfect.”

“How?”

“Easy. I find it ‘impossible’ that someone would dare move onto property that has not yet been vacated.”

Shuichi’s face burned hotly at the implied meaning. “Ei~ri!” Jeeze, he was such a pervert.

Eiri chuckled.

Shuichi stared down at his bare feet against the wood floor. “But ya know,” he said, “he may have trespassed onto private property, but he did pay the price for his audacity.”

He could not believe Shuichi knew such a big word. “Got that right,” Eiri agreed. “He should’ve read the fine print.”

“What?” Shuichi raised his head and gave Eiri a confused look.

“Trespassers will be shot on sight,” Eiri explained with a straight face.

“Ei~ri,” Shuichi cried. By this time, he was sure his face would remain permanently beet red. He slapped his hands over his burning face and slumped down on the sofa.

Eiri laughed. Other than having sex with Shuichi, this was the most fun he had in a long time.

“You know,” Shuichi mumbled from behind his hands.

“Huh?”

“You really did nearly kill him.”

The mood was instantaneously broken. Eiri growled. “Next time I will.” Nobody gets away with touching what belongs to him.

“Eiri!” Shuichi was aghast, thought really he was not surprised. Eiri did beat the crap out of Maa-kun once before in order to find out whom Taki Aizawa was and they had not even been together very long at that point. Shuichi slid to the edge of the sofa. “You’re lucky he didn’t press charges! You could’ve been arrested for attempted murder!”

“True.” Eiri scratched his cheek.

“You still could be!”

“Not likely.”

“How can you be so sure?” Shuichi demanded.

“Because he knows.”

“Knows what?”

“That it’d be his head on the line.”

“What?”

Eiri shook his head. “Never mind. Just know that we have nothing to worry about.”

Shuichi still did not like it.

“’Suki Dayo’,” Eiri spoke into the silence.  **(6)**

Shuichi blinked. A look of wonder crossed his face. “Eiri.”

“For your cologne.”

“Oh.” He felt suddenly let down that Eiri had not been saying those words to him. Though he should have known better.

“’Tikaimasu’.”  **(7)**

“Promise what?” Not that Shuichi cared. He was too bummed.

“To kick the ass of anyone who even thinks he has a chance of stealing you from me.”

Shuichi blushed.

Eiri smirked. He loved the reactions he could get out of his baka.

“I could always…”

“Hm?”

“I could always call it--‘Lover’,” Shuichi suggested shyly.

A pinkish tint colored Eiri’s cheeks. He wished he had a cigarette right about now.

“Dada!”

Their daughter’s voice shattered the moment as she pushed through the door and stepped into the living room. Her long, blond hair was matted on one side and mused on the other.

“What’s up baby?’ Eiri asked the nearly two-year old.

“Did you have a good nap?” Shuichi asked.

Rubbing her eye with a tiny fist, Sayo nodded. “Potty.”

“Alright,” Eiri said. “C’mon.”

Sayo made a beeline to the door she just came through with Eiri right behind her. Shuichi hopped off the sofa and followed them.

“What you tell the guys?” Eiri asked over his shoulder as the two of them entered the bathroom.

“Help,” Sayo called.

Eiri knelt before his daughter and undid her pants. She pulled them down all by herself and sat upon her toilet.

“Bout what?” Shuichi asked.

Eiri indicated his arm in its thick cast.

“Oh, uhm.” Shuichi turned red. “I said that I was down in the gym trying out that hip-hop abs thingy and uh, tripped.”

Eiri rolled his eyes. The sad part was that really was something Shuichi would do.

“Done!” Sayo announced.

“Okay.” Shuichi pushed away from the sink and after wiping her, helped her pull her pants back on. On her own, she raced to the sink and stepping onto her stool, washed her hands. “Are you hungry? You slept through lunch.”

“Yeah!”

“Alright. C’mon shrimp.” Eiri pushed her towards the door.

Sayo raced down the hall and vanished through the door at the end into the living room.

Eiri started to follow, but stopped when he heard snuffling behind him. He rolled his eyes when he turned around and saw Shuichi crying. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he muttered. “What’re you crying for?”

“She’s growing up so fast,” Shuichi sobbed.

Eiri sighed. “I changed my mind,” he said turning from the sight and exiting the bathroom. “I think ‘Baka’ is a perfect name for your cologne.”

“Hey!”

Eiri chuckled.

“Dada,” Sayo called. “Hungry!”

 

**…To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Taken from, “Lorcán’s Secret”, part 7 of my original story.  
> 2\. Baka - Idiot/Stupid  
> 3\. Kusogaki - Little fucker  
> 4\. Yaro - Rascal  
> 5\. Fukano - Impossible  
> 6\. Suki Dayo - I love you  
> 7\. Tikaimasu - Promise


	22. Chapter 22: Sai’ai (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Shuichi is fawning over his cologne bottles, Hiro and Suguru wait impatiently for him at the studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of Shuichi are taken from the manga

**Chapter 22: Sai’ai (1)**

**Le Printemps**

Gooey, mushy, cooing noises sounded from the shop. “Oh, Hide!”

“So, what you think?” Hideyuki Asotake questioned cautiously. If Shuichi despised them, he would just die.

“Absolutely perfect!”

“So you approve?”  
  
“Oh, definitely.”

“Oh! Thank God,” Hide exclaimed in relief. His hand flew to his heart. “I was so worried you’d hate them.”

“No. No. I love them! They are so cute! Look! Look! Don’t you think they’re cute?”

“But of course,” Hide agreed whole-heartedly. “They are little Shuichis after all. How can you not?”

Shuichi giggled.

“So, as we discussed, there will be three different scents and each will come with a different limited edition collectible doll topper.”

“Right.”

“The black raspberry vanilla will come with this one.”

Hideyuki picked up the three-inch porcelain doll that was to rest atop the actual bottle of cologne. This particular one had purple hair and vivid eyes of the same color. In his hand was a cordless microphone. White shorts with a wide black belt cinched around his waist, a black sleeveless crop top, white sleeveless trench coat fluttering behind him in some mysterious gust of wind and white fingerless gloves that stretched to above the elbows completed the look (2).

Shuichi hummed as he studied the miniature statuette. “’Temptation’.”

Hideyuki blinked. “What was that?”

“For the name.”

“Oh!” Hide flushed. “Well, it’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, this one-“

“With the coconut, right?” Shuichi guessed.

“Yes.”

Hideyuki set the statuette he was holding back down on the table as Shuichi picked up the doll topper of him that came with short, choppy, bright pink hair and large lavender eyes. A microphone stand was thrust out with the right hand. His movements were frozen in mid-movement, much like the other two statuettes. What appeared to be tight, black vinyl pants slung almost indecently low on his hips and matching belt, a red sleeveless shirt not much longer than the black belly baring one from the first doll and a black trench coat covered with white embroidery completed the look (3).

“What do you think of ‘Innocence‘?”

“Fits perfectly.”

Shuichi nodded in agreement.

“The final one will go with the baby powder scent,” Hideyuki indicated the third statuette topper.

The final statuette was of Shuichi with shoulder length black hair, just as he had it when Bad Luck first stepped onto the scene. Sitting on his head were a pair of women’s fashion sunglasses that looked as if they would hide his entire face. Large round eyes were the color of raven’s feathers. Worn and faded blue jeans with the fly undone sat low on his hips. There was a rather large tear in the left thigh near the groin. Another belly baring, sleeveless crop top, this time white, underneath an oversized white button up shirt (presumably Eiri’s) and black fingerless gloves completed the outfit. Instead of a microphone, a synth-guitar was balanced on his shoulders behind his head (4).

Shuichi was not too sure Eiri would approve of this particular doll topper. It might just be a little too sexy. Nevertheless, he liked it. It was not as if you could actually see anything. The statuettes were unisex, like Barbie dolls. “Hide you are the best!”

Hideyuki blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, Shuichi. I’m glad you like them. We tried to copy as best we could some of your more popular posters.”

“Well, they are perfect.”

Shuichi picked up the other two little statuettes toppers. He ran his thumbs over their smooth surfaces. He had to admit it was unnerving to be staring at a three-inch version of himself; odd--embarrassing--humbling…, but the mini-hims were so cute.

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions Rehearsal Studio**

With his arms crossed over his chest, Suguru glanced impatiently at the clock. He sighed out his growing annoyance. Standing behind his array of synthesizers, the musical arranger for Bad Luck tapped his foot.

“He’ll be here,” Hiro assured his fellow band mate calmly.

“He was supposed to be here two hours ago!”

“This’s Shuichi we’re talking about,” Hiro reminded him. Shuichi was rarely on time. Today was no different from any other day. “Besides,” he added, “he had a meeting this morning.”

“What?” Suguru exploded. “What meeting? Why didn’t I know about this?”

“You didn’t?” Hiro questioned. That was surprising. “Mr. K and Mr. Sakano did.”

“What? Unbelievable. I don’t believe this.”

“Where are you going?’ Hiro called after the younger man as he started for the door.

“To see my cousin,” Suguru replied. He halted with a hand on the doorknob and snapped a finger at Hiro. “You!”

“Hm?”

“Call Shuichi and get his ass here.”

Hiro cocked an eyebrow. “And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know! Think of a way.” Suguru threw his hands in the air. “Just. Get. Him. Here.”

Hiro winced as the door slammed behind Suguru. He sighed heavily. Drama. It never failed to intrude. It certainly made things livelier around here. You could never accuse NG Pro of being boring. It did get tedious, though.

Setting his acoustic guitar aside, he grabbed his cellphone and turning it back on, called Shuichi. He held the phone away from him as Shuichi’s screech called over the line. “…Shu…Shuichi…”

He sighed as his best friend babbled on without seeming to need to take a breath. Not that it was anything new. Therefore, he waited for his chance as his friend gushed on about his cologne. Then it came. Someone who had not known Shuichi his entire life would not have noticed the slight pause and thus would have missed his chance. Hiro caught it and latched onto it eagerly.

“I’m glad your perfume-” Hiro rolled his eyes. “-Yeah. Yeah. Cologne,” he corrected. “-I’m glad it’s going so well, but when are you coming in? … What do you mean where? The studio! We are in the middle of putting together a CD you know, which, I might add, is behind schedule,” he added, raising his voice so he could heard over Shuichi. Hiro sighed. “…Fine. Just…Get here soon before Fujisaki has an aneurysm…Yeah. See ya.” Hiro flipped his cellphone shut, effectively ending the call.

He was not exaggerating when he said their new album was behind schedule and not by a mere couple of days, week or even months. More like a couple of years. It just seemed to be one thing after another with Bad Luck’s fearless leader. If things did not change and soon, Hiro feared for the future of the band.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. “sai’ai”: “most cherished”  
> 2\. Look from the cover of the second volume of the manga  
> 3\. Cover from manga volume 11  
> 4\. Manga volume 4, track 13 (not sure if this Shuichi or not, but for the sake of this chapter it is).


	23. Annni Issho Datta Noni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi makes a decision without the approval of the band. Is this the start of the end for Bad Luck?

**Chapter 23: Annni Issho Datta Noni**

**The Next Morning – NG Productions**

The thunderous mixture of hip hop and pop beats filled the studio. It had Shuichi bopping his head.

It was unlike anything Bad Luck had ever done. In the past, they’d steered clear of this sound, mostly because Suguru and Hiro did not much care for it. Though Bad Luck’s sound stretched occasionally into freestyle with club undertones, mostly, they remained true to their roots--unfortunately. It wasn’t as if Shuichi had anything against being a pop/rock band or regretted anything they ever did. In fact, it was just the opposite. He was proud of everything they accomplished and how far they have come. But there was no evolution. It was a death sentence. If Bad Luck did not mix it up, they were history. People’s taste change over time and if Bad Luck did not go with the flow, then they were going to be left behind as their fans were swept away. At the same time, their sound could not and should not change so much that they scared off and alienated their fans either.

The song faded into silence.

“So, what you think?” Shinya Okugawa inquired, sitting back in the black swivel chair besides him.

Shuichi muddled it over. There really was no question. He absolutely loved the new joint. The track was everything Bad Luck was not, but that was the whole problem. Not only was it not “their sound”, but it had been written, arranged and produced by someone outside the Bad Luck family. Never in their history had Shuichi sang something he had not written personally. Well, except for “Shinning Collection”, but seeing Eiri had written it, that did not count. Suguru refused to play anything he had not personally had a hand in. Personally, Shuichi could care less where the song came from, but for his keyboardist, it was a matter of pride. Hiro was indifferent. He may be more of a rock and metal fan, but as long as Shuichi was happy, so was he. Mr. K did not care either way as long as Bad Luck’s name remained out there.

With his chin in his hand, Shuichi took in the control panel before him. He so wanted to do the song. The added fact that it was to be a duet with TKO was an added benefit. He was a huge fan of the hip hop group. TKO had been one of the first groups to be signed onto NG Productions. To have the opportunity to do something with such a legendary group was not something to be tossed aside lightly. The urge was uncontrollable. It was like steering an alcoholic into the bar and shoving a beer into his hand. He knew the guys would be against it. There was no question about that either. Even if he were to agree to it now before Suguru and Hiro had the chance to listen to it, it would make no difference. What he thought never did.

Dropping his hand, Shuichi turned towards Shinya. “I think if you give this to anyone else, I’ll hunt you down.”

“Awesome,” Shinya beamed. “Thanks, man.”

They shook hands, sealing the deal.

Did the fact that he knew Suguru and Hiro would have thrown the offer aside without any hesitation before they heard the song push Shuichi into making the decision to accept it? Probably. It was a little childish, but he did not have any other choice. He was doing this song. With or without the backing of Bad Luck. It would most likely turn out to be adding fuel to the fire, but if things did not change, then it would not matter either way if he choosing to do this song heightened the rising tension within the band. Because there would be no band.

“I have a couple other tracks,” Shinya’s voice broke into Shuichi’s thoughts, “if you wouldn’t mind taking a listen-”

Shuichi nodded continuously.

“-and tell me what you think.”

“Sure!”

“Alright,” Shinya said. “This first one is called ‘Big Girl Now’. I was thinking of making it a duet with Lola.”

“That girl from Mistral’s Kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Let’s go. Hit it.”

 

* * *

 

**Several Hours Later**

Suguru growled. “Where the hell is he?” he demanded to know.

“He’ll be here, Fujisaki,” Hiro answered calmly. Talk about déjà vu. Hadn’t they just had this same conversation the day before? But seriously, the boy needed to find a girlfriend or something, because it never failed. Shuichi was a little late and Suguru had a conniption.

“How can you be so sure?”

Hiro was sick and tired of having this discussion. “Because,” he sighed.

“Cause why?”

“He showed yesterday, didn’t he?”

“Yeah! Late!”

Hiro had a headache. Now he knew how Eiri felt. Truthfully, it was not like he did not understand where Suguru was coming from. As a part of the band, Hiro did get it. All too well. Shuichi had taken up so many side projects lately that Bad Luck seemed to have taken a backseat, which meant that their new album that had been scheduled for release originally last fall had been postponed again and again. At this rate, it was never going to be released. Rumors were already starting to circulate. Mr. K was not too worried about the talk because according to him, no press was bad press. As long as it helped to generate sales, it was all good. Hiro was not too sure that was the case one-hundred percent of the time. Though to mention such a denial to the crazed American was a death sentence.

“You know at this rate, even if we were able to get a viable CD out for a Christmas release and it broke all sales records, we’d still be in the red.”

“I know.” Unfortunately that was all too true.

“So?” Suguru rounded on the guitarist. “Is he even serious about the band anymore?”

The accusation stopped Hiro cold. “Of course he is! You should know that better than anyone else! Bad Luck is Shu’s life.”

“…Are you so sure about that?”

“Of course I am!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Then where is he?”

Hiro had no answer. He wished he did.

A door down the hall opened and a man with a neatly trimmed goatee and several small gold hoops in his ear stepped out into the hall. “Excuse me,” he called out to them.

“Oh. Sorry 'bout that,” Hiro apologized. With a hand planted on his hip, he scratched the back of his head. “Didn’t-You look familiar,” he cut himself off as he got a good look at the man.

“Not me,” Suguru said from besides him.

“You are…Hiroshi Nakano and…Suguru Fujisaki from Bad Luck?” the man asked as he approached them.

“Yes.”

“Cool. I was just coming to look for you guys.”

“And you are?” Suguru inquired.

“Shinya Okugawa.”

Hiro’s eyes popped open as his heart just about stopped. His jaw hit the floor. “Shinya Okugawa? As in the Shinya Okugawa?”

Shinya chuckled. “Last time I checked.”

“Oh, wow! My brother is going to shit his pants. He is a huge fan.”

Suguru gave the man a not so pleasant once over. “Who?”

Hiro scoffed. Should have known. “Shinya Okugawa.”

Suguru just stared at Hiro blankly.

“As in Black Cat? Japan’s Hip Hop guru? Producer? MC? Has like more number one hits under his belt than anyone else? Including Nittle Grasper and Bad Luck combined?”

That last part caught Suguru’s attention. He studied the older man a new.

“I’m glad I ran into you guys,” Shinya was saying. “If you have a few minutes, I’d like you to listen to a track I’ve been working on.”

“Us?” Hiro was totally speechless. According to his brother, this man, this Shinya Okugawa who went by Black Cat was in the same league as rap artists such as Timberland, Diddy and old school artists like Fab 5 Freddy. He was a legend. A hit maker. A god. Yoji was in awe of this man the same way Shuichi admired Ryuichi Sakuma.

“Yes. If you’re interested,” Shinya added quickly.

Hiro turned towards his fellow band mate. “What do you think?” He lowered his voice. Truthfully, while his big brother was a huge Black cat fan, Hiro himself was not too fond of his stuff. Yes, he admired the man for his genius ability, but nothing more. He knew Suguru felt the same way. While he was more of a rock fan, Suguru was on the opposite end of the spectrum and preferred more of a light rock, Blues and jazz. In that regard, anything that Japan’s number one Hip Hop artist had for them would be a full one-eighty from anything Bad Luck had ever put out.

“Sorry,” Suguru stated firmly, turning towards Shinya. “We would have to speak to our singer first before we made any decisions.”

“You mean Shuichi?”

“Yes.”

“No problem.”

“Have you seen him by chance?” Hiro inquired.

“How would he-?”

“Yes, actually,” Shinya interrupted. “He was with me all morning.”

“What?” Suguru cried.

Hiro stepped forward. “Where is he now? Is he-?”

“Gone.”

“Already?”

“What do you mean gone?”

Shinya shrugged. “He said something about a meeting.”

“Meeting? What meeting?” Suguru demanded. “I don’t believe this!” He tossed his hands in the air.

“What do you mean he was with you all morning?” Hiro asked curiously.

“Oh, he listened to some of my tracks. Seemed very interested.”

“What?”

Hiro and Suguru exchanged glances. Just what was that guy thinking?

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	24. This Could Be It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Luck gets an offer to be on a movie soundtrack.

**Chapter 24: This Could Be It**

The phone rang.

Downing the last of his milk, Shuichi grabbed the cordless phone extension off the wall mount on his way to the kitchen sink. “Hello?” He set his now empty glass into the sink. “…Oh, hey, Mr. K.” He went still. “I’m not late am I?” He breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was to have his insane manager bust into his condominium with all guns blazing, especially now that he and Eiri had a little girl. “…Uh, no, no, that’s alright,” he insisted nervously. He cleared his throat. “So, what’s going on?” There obviously had to be a reason for his crazy assed manager to be calling him at home. “…Coming in? I was just about to leave actually…No, not today. Why? What’s-? What?! Oh, wow! Seriously? Oh, my God…Yeah, sure. I’ll leave now…Yeah?” He frowned. “…Black Cat?” The name did not sound the least familiar. “…Oh! Him! Yeah. Yeah. I came to the studio early yesterday and ran into him and he said he had some songs he wanted me to listen to…Well, yeah. If I didn’t take them someone else would have...I know, but Mr. K, you have to take a listen to these songs! They are perfect! …What?” Shuichi was not at all surprised that Suguru and Hiro wanted nothing to do with the songs Shinya had him listen to yesterday. It was something he had expected. Sometimes, he hated when he was right. He slumped down onto one of the bar stools. “…So now what?” He scrubbed his free hand over his face. “…Yeah. I will. Thanks, Mr. K...I will. Bye.” With a sigh, he pushed the talk button to end the call.

“Who was that?” Eiri asked as he stepped into the kitchen with their sleeping daughter in his arms.

“Mr. K.”

“And?” Eiri prodded.

“He said something about getting an offer to appear on a movie soundtrack.”

“You guys’ve never been on a soundtrack before, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So…Why the enthusiasm?”

Shuichi smiled halfheartedly as he stood up and replaced the phone. “Apparently Hiro and Fujisaki aren’t too happy with me.”

Eiri sighed. “What you do now?”

“Nothing!”

“Uh, huh.” He should believe that why?

Clasping his hands behind his back, Shuichi studied his slippered feet nervously as they dug into the travertine-tiled floor. “Well…”

“Yes?” Eiri prodded.

“Well …”

 

* * *

 

Eiri had a headache by the time Shuichi was finished with his explanation. “So, let me get this straight,” he said as he stepped out of Sayo’s bedroom. He shut the door quietly behind him. “You agreed to do these songs without consenting Nakano or Fujisaki or your manager or producer.”

Shuichi turned red.

Eiri sighed as he pushed through the door into the living room. “Even knowing full well that Nakano and Fujisaki would be against recording them?”

Shuichi did not understand why he was the bad guy. There was no way he was going to change his mind. Those songs were his whether his fellow band mates liked it or not. Shinya wrote them especially with him in mind and he intended to record them. Suguru and Hiro could swallow their pride or get the hell out of his way. “So?”

Eiri rounded on Shuichi. “Shuichi. You are not a solo artist. You are part of a band. Meaning, you have to think about the others.”

“I know that Eiri! But-!”

“But what?” Eiri bit.

Shuichi flopped down onto the sofa. He dropped his face in his hands. Okay, so he wasn’t the reddest apple on the tree. So sue him. Maybe he should have waited to discuss the possibility of recording those songs with the others, but the instant the beats had filled the studio, he had known two things: the others would be vehemently against putting these tracks on their next album and those were the ones. Those songs were his. He had to do them no matter what. It was the same feeling he had when he first met Eiri. He had known that this man was the one; the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with. It was not something he could explain adequately enough in words. It was something he just knew.

If it were up to Suguru, they would put out CD after CD of the same old stuff they have been putting out for the past five years. Truthfully, he was sick of the old stuff, especially the new stuff that sounded a little too like the old stuff. While he was proud of all they have accomplished and of how far they have come, there was only so many times you could sample your own songs before it just got old. He used to blast the radio every time one of their songs came on. Now, he had to turn to another station. He could not stand even listening to them anymore let alone sing them. This was why Bad Luck has not performed live in some time. He just could not make it through a set.

“I can’t.”

Eiri perched on the arm of the armchair. “Can’t wait?” When Shuichi raised his head, he was shocked to see that Shuichi was crying. “What the hell are you crying for now?”

Shuichi choked on the words. He did not want to say it. If he did, it would be real and he did not want it to be real. “…If things do not change…”

“What,” Eiri breathed softly.

“Will you hate me, Eiri?” Shuichi stared into those golden eyes.

Eiri frowned. “For what?”

“…For quitting Bad Luck?”

In the time it took his mind to wrap around what it was he just heard, eternity came and went.

Quit?

Like the rest of Japan, he had heard the rumors making the rounds. Things were not well in paradise. Guess the masking tape was not holding the shattered harlequin mask together any longer. The false façade the band brought forth to the public for the last couple of years was beginning to slip. Shuichi had assured him that despite all the talk, despite the strained relations between him and the others, they would work everything out in the end. Just like they always did.

“What about the contract you signed?”

He knew the members of Bad Luck squabbled. Mostly over small, stupid things. Never did he think things would progress this far. What could have happened to push Shuichi into mulling over such a drastic course of action?

If Shuichi quit Bad Luck, what was he going to do? Go solo? Or stop signing all together? Either way, Eiri would support him. It wasn’t as if they would be strapped for cash anyway. Both he and Shuichi were pretty well off financially. He could never sell another book, everything connected to Bad Luck could vanish overnight, and they still would not have to worry about money. Even if things did become a little tight for a while after Shuichi quit his job as the lead singer for Bad Luck, he would still support Shuichi. There was no way he would be able to live with himself if he forced Shuichi to do something he did not want to do. For once you start to make excuses to avoid going into work, it is time to start looking for a new job. However, would Shuichi be able to live with his decision?

“It expires this fall.”

Meaning Shuichi was free. He could renegotiate a new contract with NG Productions or play the field. What would he do? On the one hand, NG Productions took them in when nobody else would even give them the time of day. They were the ones who took a chance by signing Bad Luck. They molded them, sculpted them, and trained them. NG Productions made Bad Luck and Shuichi Shindou who they were today. Staying and renegotiating their contract with NG Productions could be a good thing for the trio. Bad Luck could demand more control and say over their careers. On the other hand, moving to a new record company could have the same added benefits. Any record company in Japan would sell their first born in order to have Bad Luck on their record labels. If a struggle broke out between NG Productions and some other record company, Bad Luck would wind up the big winner in the end. The question was would Hiro and Suguru be at the bargaining table with Shuichi?

“…Eiri?”

Eiri turned his gaze away from the sight of Tokyo at the whispered voice of his husband. “Do what you want.” Whatever stops those tears and brings out that contagious smile.

“But…”

Pushing out of the armchair, Eiri crossed the room to sit besides Shuichi on the sofa. He took Shuichi’s tear logged face gently in his hands. “I hate to see you like this. You know that.” He swept at a stray tear with his thumb. His heart ached whenever he saw his baka struggling like this. Because there was nothing he could do, it just made him feel twice as bad.

Shuichi sniffled.

“Do what you must.”

“Really?”

Eiri nodded. “Yes.” He brushed their lips together. “Sometimes you have to be a little selfish.”

Shuichi scrubbed at his wet face. “And you won’t hate me?”

Eiri shook his head in denial. “Never.” Reaching out, he gently ran the back of his hand up Shuichi’s cheek. “I could never hate you.”

Despite the tears that continued to flow no matter how hard he tried to stop them, a smile broke out across Shuichi’s face. “Thank you, Eiri. I love you.”

“I know,” Eiri whispered back as he lowered his head.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	25. Clarity in the Face of the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maiko stops by for a surprise visit.

**Chapter 25: Clarity in the Face of the Unknown**

“…And Ami had her adenoids taken out.”

Shuichi frowned at the unfamiliar name. “Who?”

“Ami.”

“Who?” The name was still not ringing any bells.

“Shindou.”

Shuichi frowned harder. “And that would be…?”

“Your uncle Rei’s stepdaughter. Your cousin.”

“Oh.”

Now he remembered. Ami Shindou was six years old and cute as a button. Other than his own daughter, his cousin was hands down one of the most adorable little kids in the world. From what he has been able to learn from his mother, Ami’s biological father abandoned her and her mother mere weeks after Ami’s birth. His uncle started dating Ami’s mother a couple of years later and just last month they were wed. If he did not have his own courtship with Eiri to compare it to, he would say that theirs was a long engagement. Apparently, his uncle was looking into formally adopting Ami. Shuichi hoped it went through--the whole family was. His uncle Rei has been the only father that Ami has ever known. It only took Shuichi so long to remember who Ami was because he has yet to actually meet his new aunt and new cousin.

“Well that’s your own fault,” came his mother’s harsh comment in his ear.

Too late, he realized he must have said that last part aloud. But his mother was right. He really did not have anyone else to blame but himself. “What are ‘adenoids’ anyway?”

“They’re located in your throat and keep you from getting sick by releasing antibodies that fight off infections, but as you grow they become less important.”

“Why?”

“Because we develop other way of fighting off germs.”

Could you tell his mother studied to be a nurse at one time? “Okay, so why would they need to be taken out then?”

“Well, the adenoid tissue can become enflamed. Usually, it’s only temporary and the swelling goes down on its own, but there are times when it doesn’t and the adenoids get infected.”

“Ew.”

“Oh yeah. It’s very serious. It can cause breathing problems. You can start snoring and have trouble getting a good night's sleep. Uhm, you can develop a sore throat, have trouble swallowing and your glands in your neck could become swollen…”

“Yikes,” Shuichi shivered. “Isn’t she kinda young?”

“Your sister was four when she had hers taken out.”

“Really? I don’t remember.”

“You were only six.”

“Oh.”

“Oh before I forget, your aunt Sayuri had a tumor removed from her brain last week.”

“Oh my God!” Shuichi’s heart pounded in panic.

“Turns out it was non-cancerous.”

“Oh, thank God,” Shuichi sighed in relief. His aunt had only recently become a grandmother.

“Yeah. She had one removed from her shoulder when we were kids.”

“Jeeze.”

A buzzing sounded through the condominium.

“Someone’s at the door, Ma.”

“Alright, sweetie. You call me, hear?”

“Yes, Ma.” Shuichi suddenly felt ten-years-old again.

The buzzing sounded again.

“I gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Shuichi ended the call and set the cordless extension in its cradle on the table behind the sofa. He crossed the room to the foyer.

“Hey big brother.”

Surprised, Shuichi blinked at the smiling face on the screen. “Maiko.”

“Bad time?”

“No. Not at all. C’mon up.” Hanging up the phone, he buzzed his baby sister into the building. Talk about déjà vu. He wondered what she was doing here, though. “Weird,” he muttered. Not that he was not happy to see her. Things have been hectic lately, more so than usual, so he has not seen or spoken to his parents or his sister in awhile. So any excuse to catch up with the outside world was much welcome.

“Who is it?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Shuichi watched as Eiri strode around the corner. “Maiko.”

“Your sister?” Eiri walked to the closet and grabbed his shoes as well as his daughter’s tiny white sneakers that had yellow daises on them.

“Yeah.”

“That’s not like her to not call ahead. Sayo!” Eiri called loudly as he slid into his shoes. “Time to go bye-bye!”

Shuichi giggled as the sound of their daughter’s running footsteps filled the apartment.

Eiri smirked.

The nearly two-year-old with her bouncy blond curls and light hazel eyes flew into the room and flung herself at Eiri, hugging herself to his leg. Shuichi burst out laughing. He clapped his hands together. Sayo was just like him! Guess Eiri was right. When Eiri’s eye twitched, Shuichi knew that Eiri saw the similarity as well. It caused him to laugh even harder.

“Dada go bye-bye?” Sayo asked, tipping her head back to gaze up at her nearly six-foot tall father. It was a wonder she did not have a permanent creak in her neck. He knew his neck tended to bother him sometimes.

Eiri crouched down at that he was face to face with her. “Yup. Go bye-bye.”

Sayo released Eiri’s leg and sat down on the floor. She stared up expectantly at her father, eagerly waiting for him to put her shoes on.

“What she want?” Eiri asked as he slid Sayo’s stockinged feet into her sneakers.

Shuichi shrugged. “Not sure.”

A knock sounded at the door. As Shuichi went to answer it, Eiri grabbed his and his daughter’s jackets out of the closet.

“Hey,” Maiko greeted warmly as the door swung open.

“Maiko!” It sure was good to see her. Shuichi’s heart swelled at the sight of his sister.

They hugged tightly.

Over her big brother’s shoulder, she spied her niece and brother-in-law slipping into their lightweight spring jackets. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Squirt’s gotta doctor’s appointment,” Eiri said.

“Is she alright?” Maiko asked in a sudden panic. She flung her brother aside and rushed to her niece.

Sayo peered around Eiri’s leg with her thumb in her mouth. Her other hand gripped the back of Eiri’s pants. At the sight of her aunt, Sayo giggled.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Just a checkup,” Shuichi assured his sister.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Eiri scooped Sayo into his arms with a grunt.

Shuichi giggled. He would most definitely have to tease his husband about that later. After all, Eiri was four years older than he was. When Eiri threw him a glare, Shuichi instantly smoothed his expression out. Eiri snorted at the patent innocent look

“Bye-bye, Sayo! Be good,” Shuichi told his daughter with a little wave.

They laughed when Sayo’s idea of returning the gesture ended up with her waving at herself.

“Stay out of the kitchen, brat,” Eiri told Shuichi as he grabbed his wallet out of the dish on the shelf along the wall opposite the closet. He shoved it in his back pocket.

Shuichi rolled his eyes.

Eiri put his cellphone in his coat pocket and then palmed his keys.

“Hey,” Shuichi barked after Eiri as the man stepped out into the hall.

Eiri paused and peered over his shoulder. “What?”

“Didn’t you forget something?” Shuichi asked brightly, tipping his head.

As Sayo played with the blond strands of his hair, Eiri ignored the little flutter of wings in his stomach and how his heart skipped a beat. Cute. He could not stop the stray thought from entering his mind. Eiri turned his face away. “Nope,” he said.

Shuichi pouted after his husband’s retreating back. “Meanie!”

“Yup,” Eiri agreed as he stepped onto the elevator.

He heard a muffled giggle behind him. “What?” he asked his sister as he shut and locked the door.

Grinning, Maiko shook her head.

 

* * *

 

Rounding the armchair, Shuichi handed Maiko a glass of iced tea.

“Thanks.” She glanced at his arm in its thick plaster cast. “How’s the arm?”

With his own bottle of Ramuné, Shuichi flopped into the chair with a shrug. “Itches like hell.”

Maiko snickered.

“But fine.”

“How much longer will it have to be…?” Maiko waved at the cast with her free hand.

Shuichi scratched his head. “A few more weeks I think.”

“Hm. You have to do strengthening exercises? Or whatever they’re called?”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “Eiri makes sure I do them. Real pain in the ass.”

Maiko laughed. As her gaze roamed over the cast, she caught sight of where she signed it. Her grin slipped. Her expression darkened. “Did Yuki-san really do that?” The question came out more as a demand.

Shuichi‘s head snapped up and around at the hardedge to his sister‘s voice. “No.”

Maiko cocked an eyebrow at the reply that came a little too fast.

Shuichi sighed and glanced away from the prying glare of his baby sister. “Look, Mai, it’s--complicated.” To say the least.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Try me.” Her brother has yet to fully explain what happened.

Shuichi tapped the bottom of the thick glass on the arm of the chair. “I was--trying to stop Eiri from--killing Yoshi.” He watched as a droplet rolled down the side of the glass bottle to vanish within the fabric of the armchair.

Maiko sat up in surprise. “Yoshio Nakamura?!”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Wow! I haven’t seen him in like--forever! How is he?”

A pain jolted through Shuichi’s heart.

Maiko grew more curious as she saw Shuichi wince. “What happened? Why would Yuki-san…?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. I don’t want to get into it right now,” he told her, raising his voice over her protestations. “I just tried to stop Eiri and Yoshi from fighting and…”

“You got in-between them?” Maiko guessed.

“Yeah.” Eiri’s fist had connected with his cheek and the impact sent him reeling and when he landed…

Now it was Maiko’s turn to wince.

“He’s been trying to make it up to me ever since.”

“Good.” Maiko nodded. It was the least her brother-in-law could do. She took a dainty sip of her iced tea. “This is good.”

“Thanks. Made it myself,” Shuichi announced with pride.

“Really?”

“…Okay so maybe Eiri helped…a little.”

Maiko laughed.

“So? What’s up?” Shuichi asked. He took a long gulp of his strawberry soda. It burned down his throat. Eiri did not approve of his choice of carbonated beverages, which was why he had his very own secret stash that he could only partake in when said author was otherwise preoccupied. Now that Sayo was getting older, he could not drink it in front of her. She might let something slip by accident. Then his ass would be grass and Eiri would be the lawnmower. And not in that kinky way either. This reminded him. “Don’t tell Eiri.”

“What?”

Shuichi held up his clear bottle of pop.

“Huh?” A look of confusion crossed Maiko’s face.

“Eiri doesn’t let me drink this.”

“Ah!” Maiko winked. “Won’t say a thing.” Her grin vanished as quickly as it appeared. With the cold glass clasped between her knees, she stared down into the brown liquid.

Shuichi studied his baby sister. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Her long chestnut brown hair veiled her face. Looking away, he twirled the ramuné bottle and watched as the red liquid spun into a vortex. “Ma called earlier.”

“Yeah?” Grateful for the change of topic, Maiko eagerly snatched the thread.

Shuichi pretended he did not catch sight of the tear that slipped down Maiko’s cheek before she brushed it out of existence with her knuckle as if it was nothing more than an itch. He ignored the pain that was clearly outlined on her face before she quickly suppressed it when she lifted her head. “She was telling me that Ami had her ade-things taken out.”

“Yeah she did.” Maiko laughed. “She got to eat shakes and ice cream till she got brain freeze.”

Shuichi laughed. Sounded like the perfect meal to him.

As silence descended upon the siblings, Maiko’s grin faded into a smile as her worries and confusion that had led her to her older brother’s condominium in the first place pushed forth in her mind. They refused to be ignored or silenced for very long. She regarded the frothy bubbles in her untouched iced tea. “…When did you know?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Know what?” Shuichi asked with no real conviction as he leaned forward to set his bottle of pop down on the coffee table.

Maiko lifted her head back up and looked her brother squarely in the eye. “That you were gay.”

The question threw Shuichi for a loop. He was only ever asked that question once before and that was by the man who interviewed him for the premiere issue of Yoshio’s magazine. Never before or since has he ever discussed his homosexuality with anyone. Not with Hiro, Eiri or even his sister. So why now? Shuichi blinked. “When?”

Maiko lowered her gaze as she tried to straighten out her jumbled thoughts. “…I mean…” She ran her tongue along her lips.

A nervous habit, Shuichi recognized instantly.

“How did you know--what you felt for Yuki-san wasn’t…” Maiko struggled with her words.

That night flashed into Shuichi’s mind. A tender smile softened his face. “I didn’t.”

Maiko’s head snapped around.

“I’m not sure if you can call me ‘gay’.” He chuckled. “I used to joke I was ‘Yuki-sexual’.”

Maiko was confused.

“At first, I didn’t get that I was falling in love with Eiri. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him and I found myself always talking about him and I would make up some excuse to see him…”

“So, how did you…?”

“Hiro.”

“Hiro?”

“And Eiri.”

He could remember that day all too well. Acting like the cold, emotionless bastard that he pretended to be back then, Eiri had provoked him into admitting the truth (1). They say the truth shall set you free and Shuichi knew for a fact that saying had some validity to it. Coming out had been the best decision of his entire life. He was still not completely sure if he considered himself to be “all the way gay”. For Eiri was the only man that had ever caught his eye. Then again, there was not a contingent of women he found attractive either. Hence the “Yuki-sexual” orientation. It was not as if it would be the first time someone who was supposedly straight fell for someone of the same sex, just the opposite in fact, and he was not thinking about yaoi novels or mangas either.

“What did Hiro say?”

His sister’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts. “Well, he commented that--I was happy.”

“Happy?” Maiko drew her eyebrows together.

Shuichi nodded.

“You like him. Don’t you?”

He could still hear Hiro’s voice in his head.  _“Cause all you do is talk about him.”_

“Sometimes--that’s all it takes.”

Maiko blinked slowly as she tried to take in what her brother said. “Someone--who makes me--happy.”

“Right!”

She glanced down into her now warm iced tea.

Shuichi tipped his head. He studied his sister as she smiled into her drink.

“Thanks, Shuichi.”

“For what?”

Maiko merely smiled and shook her head.

“Well, you are welcome anyway.” He could wait.

“So?”

“What?”

“What’s going on with you and Bad Luck?”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. “Don’t. Ask.” Going into the studio the day before had been a nightmare.

“I hear you guys are doing a song for a movie?”

“Yeah.”

Maiko raised an eyebrow at the lack of enthusiasm in her brother’s voice. “And?”

Shuichi shrugged.

Yes, Bad Luck was going to have a track on what they were calling next year’s big summer blockbuster. The movie apparently was a cross between _Pretty Woman_ and _Rush Hour_. The working title was _Who Is It_ and Bad Luck had been called upon to record the movie’s theme song.

As per usual, Suguru wanted absolutely nothing to do with the song or the movie. It had nothing to do with the fact that an “outsider” had written, arranged and produced the track. No his deal this time was that the song was “not their sound”. Whatever that was supposed to mean. Shuichi had a feeling that the problem with his keyboardist had little to do with the music and more to do with his dislike for Shuichi. Being given the opportunity to be on a major movie soundtrack was a very big deal. It was a chance to expand their fan base. Therefore, Suguru should have jumped at the chance. However, he did not. Why? Because Shuichi was all for it. Suguru hated what Shuichi liked and liked what Shuichi hated. It was that plain and simple. Moreover, this continued childish behavior might just be the end of Bad Luck. To say that agreeing to record the song for the movie had been another nail in Bad Luck’s coffin would be an understatement. If Bad Luck were a patient in the hospital, they would be on life support.

Maiko might have sudden clarity in her life, but Shuichi could not say the same.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. From the manga
> 
> A/N: The info about adenoids was found at kidshealth.org and from my own family health history.


	26. One Too Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi has been up for hours and needs a little something to help him stay awake a little longer.

**Chapter 26: One Too Many**

**A Couple Weeks Later**

"You sound tired," his sister commented over the phone.

For an answer, Shuichi yawned loudly, causing his ears to pop and his eyes to water. He winced as the sound around him suddenly became louder.

Maiko giggled in his ear.

He was more than tired. Exhausted was more accurate. It has been several days since he has had a descent night's sleep. He has been able to grab fifteen minutes here, twenty there, but that was it. If he was not at NG working on Bad Luck's new CD, he was working on the two songs he has on a movie soundtrack, or he was on location shooting the cameo he had in the actual movie itself or he was at TV Tokyo studios recording the bit part he had in their new mecha anime, or he was perfecting his cologne or developing his clothing line. Then he had his husband, little Sayo and his household chores at home. The infighting within the band and then the business with Yoshio did not help matters either. If it was not one thing, it was another.

"Sound busy."

Shuichi snorted. "You have no idea." Yawning again, he rubbed his tired, achy eyes. It felt as if someone was jamming red-hot pokers into his eyes and then tossing sand into the wounds.

"What's this anime you gonna be in?"

"It’s a secret."

Maiko whined. "Oh, c'mon!"

Shuichi smiled sly from the backseat of the black SUV.

"Fine. Be that way."

There was a "humph" tone to her voice. Shuichi giggled. "It's just another show set sometime in the near future where aliens are invading from outer space trying to destroy the world and it's up to Japan and its new mecha machines to stop them before all of humanity is exterminated. I play one of the first soldiers to be fried. "

"Awesome. My brother. The actor."

Shuichi laughed.

"How did you get the part? Did you have to audition?"

"Mr. K said he was approached by executives from TV Tokyo themselves. So I went in, read some lines and got the part."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"You think of doing anymore anime?"

Shuichi shrugged. "Don't know. It's not easy that's for sure, but it's kinda fun. The other actors I've met are pretty nice."

"Do you prefer the part in the anime or the cameo you have in the movie?"

"Hard to say."

"Do Hiro and Fujisaki have parts in the movie, too?"

Shuichi scoffed. "Course not. They were offered, but turned them down."

"What? Why the hell would they do something stupid like that for?"

"Probably for the same reason they didn't want to record some songs for the soundtrack."

"It's true then? That you're going to be recording the songs for the movie yourself and not as part of Bad Luck?"

"Yeah."

"Why? I think it'd be a good thing for Bad Luck."

"It is."

"Then why?"

"Who knows? It's always one excuse after another. Fujisaki's always like, 'It's not our sound'. He just doesn't like doing something he hasn't personally had his hands on. And then Hiro was like, 'We don't have time for anything else. We're behind schedule as it is'." His imitation of his best friend and keyboardist was spot on.

"They're right."

Shuichi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, only because they insist on putting out a new album every year."

"The formula's worked in the past."

In the past was right. "If you like the same old generic crap we've been putting out."

"Do you?"

"Do you?" Shuichi shot back. Even over the line he could see his baby sister's wince. "Even the fans are getting tired of it." The fact that sales were down by at least fifty percent each time they put out a new CD said it all. It was time to mix things up. Every entertainer knew this basic fact: evolve or die.

"So," Maiko spoke into the silence in an effort to lighten the mood, "what're you up to today?"

"Eiri's taking us out for brunch then I've got to go into the studio for a little bit then Akihito's got some sketches he wants me to take a look at."

"Who?"

"Akihito Nioji."

"Oh! That guy from Honshu who bought Niji?"

"Yeah. I'm working with him to produce my clothing line."

The House of Niji was founded ten years earlier by the internationally renowned fashion designer Jiro Niwa. His twin daughters Mei and Mai were brought onboard as consultants when Jiro Niwa decided to expand the high-end men's fashion line into women's wear. With their help, the once exclusive clothing line became a household name that helped to expand the Niwa Empire, which--in essence--made them one of the richest families in Japan. Two years later just as the twins were taking over the clothing line from their father, they died in a tragic boating accident. In his grief, Jiro Niwa sold Niji for a pittance to his intern, Akihito Nioji.

"Cool. What's it called?" Maiko asked. She was referring to her big brother's clothing line.

"Rei."

"Nice. Where'd you come up with it?"

"Well," Shuichi scratched his head with his newly de-casted arm, "when I first brought up the idea of starting a clothing line based on my stage attire, Eiri said it had 'zero' chance of success."

Maiko laughed.

A yawn silenced anything else he was going to say.

"You're going to make yourself sick if you don't slow down."

Not like it wouldn't be the first time. "I'll be fine, Mai," he said a loud.

"Big brother…"

Shuichi laughed off his sister's concern. "You worry too much."

"Just promise me you'll get some rest."

"Scout's honor."

"You weren't a scout."

Shuichi's laugh fizzled into a yawn. "I'll grab a couple of hours when I get home." Eiri was not taking him and Sayo out for brunch until at least ten so he did have time to take a short nap.

Maiko sighed. "Better than nothing I suppose--Shoot. I gotta let you go."

"Date?" Shuichi teased.

"Shut up!"

Shuichi could feel the heat from the blush that warmed his baby sister's face over the phone. A wide, toothy grin crossed his own. "You tell them yet?"

"No--and you better not say anything!"

"I won't."

"I'll talk to you later, Big Brother."

"Okay. Say 'hi' to Gina for me."

"Will do. See ya."

"Bye."

Shuichi flipped his cellphone closed, chuckling lightly. Whoever would have guessed? All through high school, Maiko dated that pansy boyfriend of hers, that dorky guy in the glasses who just happened to be the student body president. Then during her freshmen year in college, she dumped him for her tutor, Gina Shinigawa. Well, as long as she was happy and this Gina (who he still had yet to meet) treated his sister right that was all that mattered.

Right about now, though, the only thing he was concerned with was grabbing some Zs. Now that sounded like a very good idea. Leaning his head back against the seat, he let his lids slide shut. The tension eased from his shoulders. Just as sleep started to take over, he was jolted awake by his driver's voice.

"We're here, sir."

"Thanks, Ben," Shuichi sighed. He should have known it was too good to be true. His did not name his band Bad Luck for nothing. He reached under the driver's seat for his cellphone that had slid off the seat. Shouldering his messenger bag, he stepped out onto the sidewalk. Immediately, he started sweating as the oppressive heat smacked him upside the head and then the early morning sun momentarily blindsided him, even with his dark sunglasses. To think it was not even eight yet. Fun times.

"Will you need me anymore today, sir?" Ben asked as he shut the car door behind Shuichi and escorted him to the front door of his building.

Good question. Did he? His mind went blank.

Momentarily losing his balance, he stumbled forward, but managed to catch himself before he completely embarrassed himself. How uncool would that have been? He could see it now. The headline in all the newspapers and on the entertainment programs: "One Too Many? Lead Singer Falls Flat on Face." God. That was all he needed. For people to start thinking he was an alcoholic. He shook his head to clear it.

The wheels in his head turned almost sluggishly as he tried to find an answer for Ben, who was watching him with an expression that was way too blank. There was somewhere he had to go…right? So, did that not mean he needed his driver? The answer was on the tip of his tongue. However, he could not seem to get his tongue to work right. "I'll…" He yawned. "…let you know." Yeah, when his brain actually worked.

Ben bowed. "Very good, sir. Have a pleasant day."

Shuichi made a noncommittal noise as he stepped from the warmth of the sidewalk and into the cool air-conditioned air of the lobby. He shivered in reaction. He stumbled his way to the elevator and pressed the call button. Yet another yawn seized him. Maybe he would get lucky and Sayo would still be sleeping. God willing.

 

* * *

 

He turned the key in the lock. The tumblers shifted, echoing loudly in the silence of the hall. Grabbing the doorknob, he hung his head with a grateful sigh. It felt good to be home. His eyes fluttered closed.

The ping of the elevator jerked him upright. To his mortification, he realized he had actually fallen asleep on his feet. His face red in embarrassment, Shuichi turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. The nearly deafening explosion of sound of, "Swiper! No swiping!" greeted him.

God help me, he prayed silently as that threatening headache thundered to life. Now he knew how Eiri felt.

Stepping into the house, he pulled his key out of the lock and shut the door. He turned the deadbolt and slid the security chain across the door. Lifting the strap of his bag over his head, he set it on the floor by the shoe closet then tossed his keys and cellphone onto the sideboard that Eiri purchased at an auction the other week.

The sideboard was a large, ugly and expensive monstrosity that Shuichi swore he would chop into firewood and burn the first opportunity he had; to hell with the consequences--and Eiri claimed he had a spending addiction. Please. At least he did not throw away over three-hundred thousand yen on some antique dresser that should be in the dining room storing their linen and tableware and what not and not as a store all in the foyer.

Toeing off his sneakers, he padded barefoot into the dining room. There was a pretty large pile of mail sitting on the table. Shuichi ignored it. Again. A huge yawn seized him as he made his way to the living room where his two-year-old daughter stood on the couch watching Dora.

"Hey, pipsqueak."

He did not see Eiri, which was not unusual. Either he was in the study or still in bed. He was hoping for the former.

Sayo's head whipped around at the sound of his voice. A grin broke out across her face. Pushing away from the back of the sofa, she decided to use the couch as her trampoline by jumping from cushion to cushion. She held out her arms as he approached. "Hi, Daddy! Hi, Daddy!"

She had this annoying habit of repeating herself when nobody answered her; even if she did not ask a question.

"Hey!"

She sprang into his arms like a cheetah and strapped herself around him tightly like a koala. It reminded him very much of how he reacted around Eiri. He chuckled lightly. Sayo buried her face in the crook of his neck and tightened her hold on him. The action choked him up. He hugged her back. It seemed like it'd been forever since he'd seen her. He pulled back enough so that he could plant a light kiss on her blond curls. Then he kissed her again and again and again. She squealed and squirmed away from his hands that found her ticklish spots.

Sighing, his adrenaline spent, he flopped backwards onto the sofa.

"Again!"

Shuichi shook his head. "No again." He cocked his head and listened. Over the sound of Dora, there was only silence.

"Where's Papa?"

"Sleeping."

Damn. If Sayo was not enough to rouse Eiri that meant that he’d been up all night working on his epic saga. Either he had a deadline or his muse had him working overtime. Either way, Eiri was not going to wake until noon. There went his nap and brunch. Crap in hell.

"Were you good for Papa?"

Sayo nodded as she sat in his lap playing with the buttons on his shirt.

Yawning, Shuichi rubbed his eye with his free hand. “You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He set her on her feet then followed her into the kitchen.

"Help," she called as she yanked futile-ly on the bottom cupboard that had been childproofed.

"Here." He crouched down, reached inside the small opening, and pressed the latch down. The door opened with no difficulty. Struggling against the heavy veil of sleep, he grabbed one of the breakfast bars specially designed for growing toddlers. He removed the wrapper. "Here."

"Thanks."

Shuichi smiled after her as she tore out of the kitchen and made her way back to the living room and Dora. He stood with a grunt. Closing the cupboard, he tossed the wrapper into the garbage and then started for the master bedroom.

"Daddy watch."

"In a minute, okay? Daddy's gotta go potty."

"'Kay."

He went through the first door, then down a short hall and another door beyond that in order to reach the master bedroom suite. The sight that greeted him had him smiling. Eiri was sprawled out in the middle of the bed on his stomach. All the covers but the flat white sheet, which barely covered Eiri's enticing ass, had been flung over the end of the bed and onto the floor in a pool of color. If he were not positive that Eiri would beat him senseless, he would jump him.

So instead, he made his was as stealthily as he could around the bed to the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet above the double vanity, he pushed aside the opened box of feminine douche and grabbed the orange prescription vial that was stashed behind it. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him what he needed to know: Eiri had not budged an inch. Unscrewing the lid, he shook several small round pills into his cupped hand. He popped them into his mouth, swallowed them with a glass of water and then hid the vial back behind the douche box--it was the one place Eiri never looked.

Eiri would have his head on a silver platter if he found out his favorite baka was secretly taking dextroamphetamine in order to stay awake for longer periods of time. Of course, there were some nasty side effects of taking the psychostimulant, other than Eiri's infamous temper, but in order to ensure that everyone stayed happy, it was a risk he was willing to take.

Shuichi crept out of the bathroom and through the bedroom to the living room. Dora was, thankfully, over with. Next up was Diego and then Wow Wow Wubbsy. Oh. Goody.

Seeing the deafening explosion of the Kids Channel could not stir Eiri from his coma-like slumber, there really was no point in actually being quiet. The Philharmonic Orchestra could hold a concert in their condominium and Eiri still would not wake up. However, knowing Eiri, while Armageddon could not wake him up, Shuichi could drop a feathered boa and Eiri would start yelling and screaming at them for being too noisy. Go figure.

As Shuichi stepped over the threshold into the main section of the condominium, Shuichi suddenly felt lightheaded. He slapped a hand to his forehead as his other hand grabbed the doorframe to hold him steady as the floor tilted beneath him. He screwed his eyes shut and swallowed a moan.

The dizzy spell passed quickly.

Shaking his head, Shuichi pushed away from the door and crossed into the living room where his daughter was singing the theme song to Diego.

"Done Daddy," Sayo announced. She was holding out the half-eaten breakfast bar.

Confused, Shuichi reached out for it with a trembling hand. Strange. He turned it over in his hand with a frown as he contemplated where it had come from. Had she been able to find a way around the childproofing system that they had set up? Or had Eiri get up earlier to feed her?

Shrugging, he stumbled his way into the kitchen to toss it away. On his way back, he lost his balance a second time and had to make a quick grab for the back of one of the dining chairs to keep him upright. What was wrong with him? Just a minute ago, he felt energized and ready to take on the world, but now he felt worse than he did before he took the dextroamphetamine. No, he really did not feel good.

When his sight started acting funny, Shuichi pulled out a chair and sat down. He hung his head between his knees when the room started to spin.

He was going to be sick.

"Map!" Sayo echoed the television. She thrust her hand in the air.

A muffled thud reached her ears.

She glanced over her shoulder and spied her daddy sprawled out on the floor underneath the dining table. Was Daddy playing? Or had he fallen asleep like Papa? What a silly Daddy, sleeping on the floor, but she really had to go potty and she could not go by herself. She climbed down off the couch and ran to him.

"Daddy," she called as she squatted down besides his still form and shook his shoulder. "Daddy!"

Daddy was not waking. Maybe Papa would help her go to the bathroom before she went in her pants. Papa did not like it when she did that. He always got very mad, but then Daddy would get mad at Papa for getting mad at her.  
She stood up and raced towards her daddies bedroom. The two doors that she had to open were heavy, but she managed to push them open.

"Papa! Papa," she called. He was not answering either. She climbed up onto the huge bed that was almost too high for her, but she managed to do that too. She crawled across the bed towards where her papa was sleeping. "Papa! Go potty! Papa!"

Eiri groaned as he was forced awake. "Go ask Daddy," he slurred. He grabbed one of the pillows and buried his head underneath it. The sun was barely up. Why in the name of all that was holy did his daughter have to wake at the ass crack of dawn?

"Daddy sleeping."

"So? Go wake him."

Sayo made a frustrated noise. She really, really had to go potty really, really badly and neither Daddy nor Papa would wake up and help her. "Papa! Potty!"

Sighing heavily, Eiri's eyes fluttered open. Damn it all to hell.

Yawning, Eiri shuffled out of his bedroom as he followed his daughter to her bathroom. Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

"Brat?" he called, recognizing his husband. "What the hell are you doing on the floor?"

"Daddy sleeping Papa."

Eiri nodded. "I can see that." He rounded the table and kicked Shuichi in the head. "Brat. Wake up. Sayo has to go to the bathroom."

Nothing.

Eiri frowned. Shuichi never ignored him and he was not such a heavy sleeper that he would not hear if someone called him. He knew that Shuichi has had some long nights recently and has not been getting much sleep. Maybe it finally caught up with him? "Shuichi Shindou." Still, even asleep, Shuichi would give some sort of reaction, especially at being kicked in the head. "If you don't wake up this second, you will be the one cleaning up after your daughter when she pees her pants." He killed the panic that was slowly rising to life within him and instead embraced his anger at being ignored and gave Shuichi another swift kick in the head. "Brat." His bark sounded pathetic even to him.

Still nothing.

Now he was really starting to worry. "…Shu?" Crouching, Eiri shook Shuichi gently. "Shuichi?"

"Papa! Gotta go potty," Sayo reminded him as she danced around in an attempt to keep from going potty in her pants.

Distracted by his non-responsive husband, Eiri told Sayo, "In a sec, okay?"

"Potty now Papa," she complained.

Eiri looked at his daughter over his shoulder. She was holding herself and performing some sort of jig. "Can you go by yourself like a big girl?" He really did not want to leave Shuichi. Something was wrong with his brat. Shuichi never ignored him, not even when they were fighting. He always did what he was told and he especially would not fall asleep when there was nobody to watch over Sayo.

"Okay!" She turned on her heel and raced through the house to the bathroom.

Eiri, meanwhile, flipped Shuichi over. Something was wrong. He knew it. His baka was too still. "Shuichi? Shuichi."

He lightly slapped Shuichi's cheeks.

Again nothing.

This was not good.

Not able to fight the panic any longer, Eiri struggled to his feet and grabbed the phone off the wall in the kitchen. It took him several attempts, but he finally managed to dial the right number. "Something's wrong with the brat," he said before the person on the other end could say anything. "He won't wake up."

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: "Niji" means "rainbow".


	27. We Shall Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi has been ordered to rest after accidentally overdosing.

**Chapter 27: We Shall Meet Again**

**One Week Later**

The bed was really high, like a bazillion times higher than her own, so climbing onto it was very hard, but she did it. She was very proud of herself. Usually, she had to have one of her daddies help her. Not anymore though because she was a big girl now. On hands and knees, she crawled across the bed towards the lump buried under the covers. Sitting back with her legs folded beneath her, she reached out and shook the huddled form. “Daddy,” she called softly. “Daddy.”

She squeaked as arms grabbed her from behind and pulled her off the bed and away from her daddy.

“What are you doing?”

She tipped her head back. “Hi, Papa,” she greeted.

“Hi, Sayo.” Eiri set his daughter on the floor. She turned around to face him as he knelt before her. “What did we talk about?” he asked her, keeping his voice low. “You cannot bother Daddy. He needs to rest, okay?”

Sayo pouted. “But-!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Eiri turned her around and gave her a little shove towards the door. “Go play.” From his crouched position, he watched as his daughter raced out of the bedroom and into the living room where Sesame Street was just coming on. He then turned to look at his husband who was sound asleep with his back to him.

One week.

It has been seven days since he thought he lost his whole world.

Standing up, he crossed to the bed and eased down onto the mattress gently. He reached out and ran his fingers through the tuft of soft pink locks sticking out from under the blankets.

Not much surprised him anymore when it came to Shuichi. Not much could. At first, he had been stymied by the continual stupidity his partner of five years managed to surround himself with almost on a daily basis. What at first had been a rarity was so commonplace now that it rarely fazed him anymore. He had to admit though that this took the cake. Never would he have guessed that Shuichi, his Shuichi mind you, would do something this idiotic.

_“Wait. Wait.”_

He had known the brat was doing too much. He had warned him numerous times. Of course, in typical baka fashion, the pink haired, purple-eyed demon ignored his warnings, claiming he could handle it. Yeah. Right. Next time, he would skip the warnings, go straight for the threat, and then beat Shuichi’s ass black and blue if he disobeyed him again.

_“He overdosed?”_

_“Yes, sir, Uesugi-san.”_ Dr. Takata’s voice echoed in his mind. _“It seems he ingested fifty milligrams of dextroamphetamine instead of the five he was prescribed.”_

Dextroamphetamine. From what he has been able to learn, it was a psychostimulant that increased wakefulness and focus while decreasing one’s appetite. It was not really a very smart move when one was up for over forty hours straight. The medication that Shuichi’s primary care physician prescribed for him several weeks ago was an upper, a narcotic he had legal access to all because the damn brat had piled his plate so high that he needed more hours in the day in order to shovel his way to the bottom. He swore by all that was Holy that by the time he was through with Shuichi, the brat was going to wish they had left him to die there on the dining room floor instead of pumping his stomach. Shuichi was lucky the drugs had not interacted badly with the other medication he was taking. What had Shuichi’s doctor been thinking anyway? The guy should have known better.

Brat. Both of them.

Now Shuichi was on a forced sabbatical. Doctor’s orders. Even if Dr. Takata had not ordered Shuichi on bed rest for two to three months, Eiri knew he would have done it himself, screw the consequences. The last thing either of them needed was for Shuichi to work himself into a hospital bed. Again. Or worse. Meaning, Shuichi was not allowed to work on his clothing line or his cologne. He could not do any recording for Bad Luck’s new CD or for the soundtrack to “next summer’s blockbuster thriller”. The cameo in the movie itself and the anime from TV Tokyo had to be shelved for the time being. To say that many people were pissed at Shuichi for this latest inconvenience would be an understatement. While Shuichi was worried about letting so many people down, Eiri could care less what people thought. Shuichi was going to obey the doctor’s orders even if it meant being chained to the bed.

Damn brat.

“Brat,” he called.

The lump stirred and emitted a muffled noise.

“I’m going to be taking Sayo to the park.”

Shuichi flipped onto his back and tossed the covers off his head.

“How’re you feeling?”

Shuichi shrugged.

He certainly looked better, Eiri decided. “You need anything?”

Shuichi shook his head.

“’Kay. Rest,” Eiri ordered. He placed a chaste kiss on his partner’s forehead. “Hear me?”

Shuichi rolled his eyes.

“Brat.”

Shuichi snickered.

Eiri rolled off the bed and with one last glance at Shuichi, went in search of their daughter and whatever destructive mayhem she was causing.

Shuichi’s grin slipped as he watched Eiri disappear out the door. With a sigh, he folded his arms across his forehead. Frowning, he held out his hands before him. They were shaking. Clenching his hands into fists, he stared up at the ceiling.

Idiot.

It was not as if he set out to deliberately overdose on those pills Dr. Koto prescribed to help him stay awake for longer periods. It had been an accident. He was not suicidal. Just the opposite in fact. He had so much to live for. He had just been on his feet working for over forty hours straight and as the affects of the pills wore off, the exhaustion had taken over. He had just been so tired that he had not been thinking straight. His mind had shut down. Even though he had longed for his bed and the inside of his eyelids, Sayo could not go unsupervised. Who knows what kind of mischief she would get herself into? It was not as if he could have woken Eiri up either. The blond writer was cranky as all hell in the morning and would more likely than not kick his ass in for disturbing him before rolling back over and falling back asleep. It did not matter that Shuichi had been up all night and that he had been practically asleep on his feet. He had said as much to Eiri when his husband yelled at him after he had been allowed to see him after his stomach had been pumped.

He had had no other choice. Until Eiri decided to grace them with his presence, he had to keep an eye on their daughter.

Who knows what could have happened had he ingested a couple more milligrams.

The first tears of the day slipped down his face only to be swallowed by his pillow.

Idiot.

Idiot.

Idiot.

There was no way he would ever be able to forgive himself, accident or not. To do such an asinine thing and in front of their daughter no less was an unforgivable sin. Right now, she was so young that she did not fully understand what had transpired the week prior and in another few years, she would not even remember finding her daddy passed out under the dining table, but he would. He would remember what did and what could have happened for the rest of his life.

What was more, now because he was being forced to take it easy for practically ever, everybody that had been counting on him was being let down. It was not like he and the guys had been on the best of terms in the first place. Now their relationship was teetering on the edge. Anything could send it crashing over.

Curling onto his side, Shuichi sobbed quietly.

 

* * *

 

It felt like he had just fallen asleep when he was jolted back awake.

Shuichi stared blankly at the closed closet door. He blinked long and slow. His eyes grew heavy. Unable to keep his weighty lids open, they slid shut over achy eyes. Sleep descended over him. Just as quickly as it grabbed him in its clutches, sleep beat a hasty retreat once again.

Rolling onto his back, Shuichi listened. Quiet. Too quiet. Eiri and Sayo must still be at the park. Knowing Eiri, he probably stopped by the bookstore and then the pastry shop along the way and then allowed their daughter into talking him into buying her an ice cream, Shuichi decided. And Eiri called him predictable.

Then he heard it. Someone was at the door. Strange. All visitors had to be buzzed into the building either by someone at the front desk like Naoki-kun or Akizuka-kun or by either himself or Eiri. If Naoki-kun or Akizuka-kun buzzed a visitor into the building, they would call ahead to let them know. Maybe it was one of the neighbors. They always seemed to have some excuse to visit--wonder why.

His hands trembling, Shuichi tossed aside the layers of blankets and sat up. The world swayed and a bout of nausea rolled through him. He groaned and waited for it to pass. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he slipped his feet into his slippers and padded around the bed to grab the robe off the back of the bedroom door. It turned out to be Eiri’s, meaning it was about three times too large and smelled like cigarette smoke.

The knock sounded again.

Shuichi shuffled out of the bedroom, down the short hall into the dining room. Skirting the dining table, he passed the sideboard that Eiri finally moved out of the foyer--unfortunately, an antique traditional step tansu had taken its place. At least this time Eiri did not pay an arm and a leg for it. He actually purchased it for a steal and he had his drop dead gorgeous lover who had flirted with the sales clerk to thank for it.

Shuichi crossed the foyer to the front door. He turned the dead bolt. The tumblers shifted loudly. When the door swung open, he went still. “Y-Yoshi?”

“Hey, Shuichi,” Yoshio Nakamura greeted sheepishly.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	28. We Are Being Forced To Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi says goodbye to one of his oldest and dearest friends.

**Chapter 28: We Are Being Forced To Say Goodbye**

Shuichi turned the dead bolt. The tumblers shifted loudly. When the door swung open, he went still. “Y-Yoshi?”

“Hey, Shuichi,” Yoshio Nakamura greeted sheepishly. “I, uh, know you said you never wanted to see me again, but…I thought you’d like to know that the issue you appear in comes out on Friday.”

Shuichi stood rooted to the spot unable to say anything, unable to do anything. The only way Yoshio would have came by was when he was absolutely certain that Eiri was not at home, otherwise, him showing up like this was nothing short of suicide. Meaning he had probably been waiting and watching outside the mansion for God knows how long. He was not too sure how he felt about that. However, he really could not blame Yoshio for being overtly cautious. He would be too if their positions were reversed.

He had always known that Eiri was a very possessive individual.

Other than Maa-kun and Aizawa, Eiri had beat up his own younger brother years ago when he learned that the younger monk had had a hand in the harassing phone calls and letters Shuichi had been receiving during what had been (or so Shuichi thought) a friendly competition between Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper. So, having the knowledge thrown, quite literally, in his face that Shuichi had had an affair with someone he had grown up with had caused Eiri to march to the hotel Yoshio was staying at and beat the living crap out of him. He very nearly killed Yoshio. The only reason he did not succeed was that Shuichi had stepped in-between them.

It has been almost two months since then. He and Eiri had finally managed to put it all behind them and move on, but now here it was thrown back into their faces.

He was beginning to feel sick.

Yoshio swung his black leather briefcase around and pulled out a slim sealed envelope. “Here.”

Shuichi stared at the glossy package for several long seconds before he reached out for it with trembling hands. He swallowed the bile the filled his mouth.

“I tried to keep the fact that you were going to appear in this month’s volume as quiet as I could.”

Unable to say anything, Shuichi just nodded. He tightened his grip on the sealed magazine as his stomach flip-flopped queasily.

“But seeing as it’s coming out in a few days, I couldn’t stop it from being leaked.”

Shuichi went still.

“I know it’s sorta bad timing what with everything that’s been going on, but…”

Other than him, the only other people who knew that he was going to be featured on the cover of a gay porn magazine was Yoshio and Eiri. He hadn’t even told Hiro or Suguru, Mr. K or Mr. Sakano. Eiri had not even told Tohma, but now here his involvement with the controversial magazine was going to be splashed on the evening news. Crap in hell. This was all he needed.

“I, uh, just thought, you know,” Yoshio continued, feeling more nervous the longer Shuichi remained silent, “you’d like to know.”

Shuichi’s chest tightened and his throat constricted around a sob.

After what took place between them, Shuichi had been positive that he would never see Yoshio again.

Standing face to face with the man after almost two months, he was not sure how he felt. Of course, he was happy to see him. Yoshio was his oldest and one of his closest friends after all. Since the two of them were just babes in diapers, he and Yoshio have been the best of friends. There was part of him that had an almost irresistibly strong desire to glomp Yoshio just as he has been doing since they were children and drag him into the condominium for some tea. The stress of trying to deal with the ever-increasing tension between the members of Bad Luck and the strain of trying to juggle a hundred different other things at once had almost killed him a week ago and he desperately needed someone to talk to.

Usually, he went to Hiro when he was feeling conflicted and uncertain like this, but not this time. He just could not, in good conscious, continue to place his best friend in the middle like he has been doing thoughtlessly for months now. It was not fair. Besides, knowing Hiro as well as he did, he knew beyond any doubt that Hiro would tell him to do whatever made him happy. Hiro would sacrifice everything if it made Shuichi happy.

He could not go to Eiri either for the author just did not understand. Eiri was much like a Vulcan as his thought process was more logical. Like Hiro, he too would tell him to do whatever it was he had to do. That he would support whatever decision he came to. Eiri had told him countless times that he did not like it when Shuichi was sad. He wanted him to always be smiling. So talking things over with Eiri did very little to help him.

There was always Ryuichi Sakuma. The lead singer of his favorite band has helped him in the past, but…Even in the most serious of situations he tended to make light of and play off an incident as nothing that could not be resolved by just being “sparkly”. At times, he was grateful to his idol for those childish, yet deeply meaningful answers, but not this time. No amount of sparkle would help him to resolve his problems this time.

So that left Yoshio. Yoshio lent him an ear. Yoshio gave him a shoulder to cry on. Yoshio never judged him. Yoshio never blamed him. Yoshio never punished him for events that spiraled out of his control. Yoshio never called him names. Yoshio never pushed him aside. Yoshio always put him first before anything else. Yoshio never held anything back. He would tell him straight out what he thought and did not apologize. He always told him how it was and that was that. In that way, Yoshio reminded Shuichi a little of Hiro (minus the bop to the head). However, after what his supposed “best friend” did, taking advantage of him at his most vulnerable, Shuichi felt wary of the man. He was not sure about anything anymore when it came to Yoshio. It was like discovering that your lover had cheated on you. He claims it was just that one time, but how can you be positive? How can you trust that he is telling you the truth? Because he says so?

He head was spinning with indecision. What should he do?

Oh, God. Tell me. What should I do?

Without a word, Yoshio gave a sad little smile, turned and started back down the hall the way he came.

There were so many things he wanted to say…

“Was it worth it?” Shuichi called out in a voice that was barely a whisper.

The only reaction that Yoshio gave that he had heard the question was the momentary pause in his stride.

Mournfully, Shuichi watched from the foyer of the condominium he shared with his partner of five years and their two-year-old daughter as Yoshio stood silent before the elevator. Sealed within a glossy white envelope that he was clutching to his chest was the infamous issue of Blaze that had torn apart a twenty-year friendship.

He spied Yuri, one of the front desk attendants, standing behind Yoshio looking grim and menacing. Despite being no taller than he was and having less muscle than a toothpick, Yuri was looking very much the bodyguard. He wondered what Yuri had been doing here? Was he here because of an order given to him by Eiri? Or had he followed Yoshio up out of his own volition? Either way, when Eiri came home he was going to know that the man he had forbidden Shuichi to have anything to do with ever again had violated their agreement.

In the heavy silence of the hallway, the ping announcing the arrival of the elevator sounded unnaturally loud.

Panic set in immediately. If he did not say something now, then it was going to be too late. The elevator doors slid open. Yoshio stepped on. Yuri stepped on behind him. Shuichi’s heart jumped into his throat then dropped into his stomach much like it did when Eiri went way too fast over a hill. He stepped forward. He reached out a hand. The doors started to slide shut. He was not sure what, but there had to be something, anything, he could do or say that would keep Yoshio from stepping onto that elevator. For despite what he did, Yoshio still was and always would be his best friend. His mouth opened and an indistinguishable noise escaped. Neither man looked back. The doors closed with a thump. It was too late.

Shuichi slapped a hand over his mouth when a sob echoed down the hall. Tears filled violet eyes. His vision blurred. Stepping back into the condominium, he leaned his back against the door, using his full weight to push it closed. Sliding down the door, he collapsed onto the floor. Hugging the magazine to his chest, he dropped his chin and cried silently.

The worst part of the whole thing was that…

“He didn’t answer me,” Shuichi sobbed.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	29. The World Exclusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi’s involvement with "Blaze" comes out and causes outrage from his band mates

**Chapter 29: The World Exclusive**

**Nakano Residence**

_“Bar Rafaeli. Miranda Kerr. Lady Gaga. Scarlett Johansson. Keira Knightley. Heidi Klum. Jennifer Aniston. Britney Spears. Now…Shuichi Shindou? Here‘s Yei with the details. Yei?”_

Hiro blinked at the sound of his best friend‘s name. Holding a sponge in one hand and a plate in the other under the mountain of bubbles in the kitchen sink, he turned towards the television that he had turned on more for the background noise than anything else. Seeing that Bad Luck has been the subject of rampant tabloid fodder more often than not as of lately, he tended to not watch any of the entertainment news programs any longer. Unfortunately, he had not realized what channel he had on when he had turned on the TV before starting on the dishes.

_“That’s right, Hisao. In the past, stars have posed in the nude or semi-nude on the covers of magazines in order to promote a movie, a book, a television show or just to re-boost their careers. It’s nothing new.”_

Hiro froze.

_“So why would the rumors of yet another star posing nude turn the entertainment world on its head tonight?”_

As if in a trance, Hiro walked out of the kitchen and into the living room with twin sudsy trails following in his wake formed from the soapy sponge forgotten in one hand and the plate he had been washing in the other.

_“Because the newest star to pose in the buff would be none other than front man and partner to Eiri Yuki, Mr. Shuichi Shindou.”_

The sound of shattering ceramic silenced the rest of the woman’s monologue.

 

* * *

 

**Seguchi Residence**

_“The magazine is Blaze; the controversial pornographic magazine now owned by a childhood friend of Shindou’s, one Yoshio Nakamura. Now, you may recall that in the magazine’s premiere issue of its relaunch, Shindou granted the magazine an exclusive in-depth interview-”_

The picture on the screen froze and then was swallowed by blackness. Tohma lowered the remote, but his vise-like grip around the long, black instrument refused to let it go. Anger boiled inside of him, but his neutral expression gave nothing away.

Pale faced, Suguru continued to stare wide eyed at the television.

“Did you know about this?” Tohma inquired of his younger cousin in a dangerously calm voice.

Suguru opened his mouth, but closed it when nothing came out. He knew he looked like an idiot, but he could not help it. The only thing he could do was shake his head negatively.

 

* * *

 

_“There have been rumors for some time now that there’s some discord among the members of the pop band and between Shindou and NG Productions itself. The record company and Shindou’s people have denied these rumors of course, but one has to wonder if they aren’t in fact true, what with Bad Luck not having released anything or performed publicly for several years now. Then you have Shindou’s various side projects like his clothing line that will be unveiled at Fashion Week in a few weeks, his cologne that will be released the following week, the various acting jobs and then you have the songs he will have on the soundtrack to Kurosawa’s new movie Who Is It coupled with the bombshell that he has posed for a gay porn magazine, one has to wonder just where Bad Luck fits into all of this.”_

All his energy seemed to vanish in one fell swoop. Shuichi dropped onto the sofa when his knees buckled.

The picture on the television screen changed.

_“-tried to contact NG Productions for a comment but they did not return our call, but a spokesperson for Eiri Yuki released this statement this afternoon, ‘Shuichi posed for Blaze as a favor-’”_

The picture on the screen changed yet again.

_“-Bad Luck camp had no comment this afternoon in regards to the semi-nude photos released-”_

Shuichi dropped his face into his hands. “Oh, God,” he moaned.

_“-tually, these photos were taken some time ago.”_

At the sound of his old friend’s voice, Shuichi’s head snapped up.

_“It took some convincing to get him to actually agree to pose for Blaze,” _Yoshio laughed. _“He didn’t want to alienate his friends, family, band mates or his fans with anything too graphic or explicit and of course-”_

The television went dark.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	30. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Shindou has a few choice words to say to her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from the POV of Shuichi.

* * *

**Chapter 30: Confrontation**

Oh. My. Freaking. God.

Why did I answer the phone when I knew she was going to go off like this? Oh. Yeah. Right. It was to get it finished and over with that’s why. It was better to fill your gas tank before the needle got to the “E”.

God! Shoot me now! I beg of you! Put me out of my misery. Please!

Unfortunately, no such luck. Meaning I had no other option but to listen to my mother as she rambled on and on and on and on and on. I knew I should have let the answering machine get it. Bloody hell. Knowing her though, she would have used up the entire storage memory of the answering machine bitching me out.

I found myself sighing again. I really should start keeping track of how many times I sighed when I was on the phone with my mother. Maybe I could turn in into a game. It’d definitely keep me sane.

Holding the phone to my ear with one hand, I used the other hand to massage my throbbing temples. My head was killing me. I made a mental note to apologize, again, to Eiri for being such a whiny bi-polar crybaby. It was not often that I was given a does of my own medicine, but being on the phone with my mother made that rarity a reality. Usually, holding a conversation with her was like speaking with the average Joe out on the street. It was just a normal conversation. Hi. How are you? That type of thing. Other times, it was obvious whom I took after and it sure as hell was not my father. I suspect the only reason my father had remained as sane as he has in the thirty years my parents have been married is that he tends to be indifferent about most things. He would allow her to get away with murder if it meant he did not have to get involved in the sanity, or the insanity as the case may be, that was the Shindou household. I sure as hell could not blame him. How Dad could have possibly fallen for someone as completely insane as my mother was beyond me, but then again some people ask the same thing about Eiri and me.

My mother continued to ramble on non-stop without seemingly needing to take a breath. Amazing. Is that how I sound? It’s no wonder that Eiri tunes me out.

Also, she could turn her tears on and off at the drop of a hat. It was just like flipping a light switch. She used this ability so often in order to get her way that it was wearing quite thin, though we all fell for it anyway. Eiri called me a wuss constantly for caving into my mother’s heavy-laden guilt trips. I can’t help it. She’s my mother for crying out loud. How can I possibly say no to her? Some of us are not as--strong willed, let’s say, like him (and no you do not want to know what I was going to say instead).

Not to mention that one second my mother was as high as a kite and the next she was acting as if someone died. It was exhausting just trying to deal with her out of control emotions--not that I could blame her--at least not this time. I had only myself to blame.

“…I know…Ma…I said I was sorry…!”

My eyes just about popped out of my head after what came out of her mouth. I could my face growing warm.

“…Ma,” I whined.

By God, she was embarrassing. Did she not realize this was her own son she was referring to? And holy-! Bipolar much? First, she bites my head off for being “so stupid” as to pose nude for the cover of some “sleazy porn magazine” (her words, not mine)…

_“Are you trying to being shame to this family?”_

…and then she claims that it was a pretty sexy photograph of me wrapped in nothing more than ivory sheer material and sprawled on my back with half of my body hanging off the side a Little Miss Liberty Windsor round canopy bed.

Sometimes I just do not understand her.

I mean, there were just some things that a mother should not be privy to and that included nude photos of her son posing erotically.

“…What?!”

The sound of her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Oh. My. God. You didn’t!”

Why? Why did she insist on doing this to me? I swear by all that was holy that my mother did not know the meaning of the word “privacy”. To her, whatever happened to any member of the family was open for discussion to anybody and everybody, even strangers out on the street who did not give a flying rat‘s behind. For example, when Maiko first started getting her, uhm, her “you-know-what”, Mother bragged about it to everyone she saw. And I mean everybody. Poor Maiko. To say that my baby sister died of embarrassment a hundred times over would be an understatement. When Maiko confronted our mother about her big mouth, all our mother said was, _“Nonsense. This is a time for celebration!”_ Then when Mother learned that I was dating Eiri, she went and blabbed to the entire neighborhood that the famous best-selling romance novelist had “deflowered” her little boy. _“Now you know how it feels,”_ is what my sister said to me in my utter embarrassment.

I was twenty-three years old, married, had a child of my own and lived as far away as I could from her without being out of the city altogether and she was still finding ways of embarrassing me to Hell and back. Her reasoning was the same as it always was. She was “proud”.

“Ma, you just said-”

My mother was a walking contradiction. She was angry with me for agreeing to be on the cover of a porn magazine (as if I had any other choice, but I was not going to get into that with her). Then she claims that she found the photographs to be tasteful and sexy (for a “sleazy porn magazine” that is) so she just had to go out and boost to all who would listen (and even those who didn’t want to hear about such things) about her famous singer son. Apparently, she scoured the entire city and when she found a place that sold Blaze, she bought every copy it carried and passed them out to the neighbors.

Dear God. Why? Someone, please explain to me why she did this to me? Seriously. Mr. K, Mr. Sakano and Mr. Seguchi were always trying to discover the source of these leaks concerning Bad Luck that always seemed to spring to life and no matter how hard or thoroughly they searched, they always came up ended handed. I had a feeling that if they were to sit down and speak with my mother, they’d find their leak…So, does that mean that when it came down to it, the source was me since I was the one who ended up telling her everything? I mean, come on, like I said, she was mother. Hey, you try having a conversation with her. I bet you will not get away without having divulged one thing or another.

Besides, not like the whole country didn’t know that I had posed basically in the nude for Yoshio’s magazine, but still…

I heard a beep over the line in my ear. Immediately, I knew it was signaling a waiting call. “Ma. I gotta go. There’s someone on the other line…Yeah, we will. I’ll--I’ll speak with Eiri…Okay. Love you, too. Bye.” A surge of relief flooded through me. Next time, I was going to let the answering machine get it. Or better yet, maybe I could convince Eiri to get rid of the landline phones all together and just rely on our cellphones. That way, my mother wouldn’t be able to call me and drive me completely insane. Then again, scratch that. She had my email address. I think. Did she? Well, whether she did or didn’t, Maiko had it. Meaning, my mother could just fill my inbox instead. Damn. “Yes?” I answered the other line. “Ah!” It was Naoki-kun. “Hey! What’s up?” Uh, oh. Just my luck. Hiro was on his way up. Just great. That was all that I needed. Oh, well. It was something that I was bound to have to deal with eventually anyway. “Yeah, it’s okay. Let him up.” I hung up the phone with a sigh.

Round two begins now apparently.

A creak sounded behind me. A quick check over my shoulder as I hung up the phone revealed Eiri. His dirty blond hair was mused and an unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. Just the sight of him had me squealing like a schoolgirl. I couldn’t help it. It was the effect he had on me. Though he bitched about how I acted gave him ulcers and migraines, I think he secretly enjoyed what just thinking about him did to me. Him? Big ego? No!

“Baka,” Eiri greeted.

I opened my mouth to tell him about Hiro, but before the thought was even half formed, he’d tossed his cigarette aside, grabbed me and yanked me none too gently to him. He held me tightly against the front of him with an arm wrapped securely around my waist. His other hand squeezed my ass, effectively drawing me in even closer. I could feel the hardness of him pressed up against me. It caused my gasp to morph into a moan halfway passed my lips.

Dear God.

His head descended towards mine. My heart was pounding. It was so loud; it was a wonder Eiri did not say anything.

Eiri’s lips were a hairsbreadth away when a harsh pounding that sounded just this side of knocking the door in emitted through the condominium. I cringed when Eiri’s hold on me tightened and he uttered words best left to the imagination under his breath at the intruder. That was when I remembered that Hiro was here. Crap in hell.

“I know you’re in there, Shuichi,” yelled Hiro through the door.

Eiri’s eyes narrowed dangerously. I hurriedly stepped out of his grasp and started towards the door. Eiri was very protective of me. Very--okay, maybe not very protective. It was more like extremely overprotective of me. Best friend or not, Eiri would have no qualms with beating Hiro into a bloody pulp for even raising his voice at me. Hey, he did beat up poor Maa-kun in order to get to sourpuss Taki Aizawa and then very nearly killed Yoshio a couple of months ago.

_“Eiri, stop! Stop!”_

I could still hear my pleading voice as I stormed into the hotel where Yoshio was staying. I’d been forced to watch helplessly as Eiri pinned Yoshio up against the wall with one hand wrapped so tightly around Yoshio’s throat that his face had turned an unnatural shade. Eiri had been using his other hand as a battering ram.

Yoshio pleading and begging with me to pose for his magazine had brought back some very unpleasant memories.

_“What the fuck is this?!”_

Eiri had stormed into the bathroom and found me kneeling over the porcelain throne. At the time, I wasn’t aware of his presence or the photograph in his hand. All I could see was sourpuss’ sneering, self-satisfied face, feel as I was torn apart, watched as my whole world came crashing down around me and heard those not so veiled threats whispered again in my ear…

…Then nothing.

When I woke up, it was to an empty condominium. Feeling lightheaded and warm with fever, I stumbled groggily out into the dining room in search of my Eiri and that was where I found “it” laying on the table. I had to wait until my eyes could focus, but when I did, I realized what I’d found was a photograph taken in a strange room that I did not recognize, but at the same time it hit me with a strange sense of déjà vu.

In the photo were two figures. They were entwined together on a bed in a dimly lit room. In the next second, I realized both people were male and they were not practicing for the upcoming wrestling competition with their rivals. In the second after that, I recognized one of the figures. He was on his back with his knees pointing at the ceiling. His head was tossed back. His back arched off the mattress. His mouth open in a silent scream. His hands gripping the dark head bobbing up and down between his splayed legs, a dark head that had no business being there.

In an instant, that night came flooding back and I flew back to my porcelain throne, disgusted once again at myself for committing the same sin I had chewed Eiri out about not twenty-fours earlier.

As I lay sprawled there over the toilet, trembling from head to foot, it hit me fast and furious. If Eiri had seen this photo, then…

I was not aware of where I was going, but my feet did and they took me right to the hotel where Yoshio was staying, the same hotel where several years earlier he had taken me and violated our friendship.

It was stupid to get in between them, but it was the only choice that I had at the time. How else was I supposed to get them to stop?

“Let me handle this, okay?”

I could see the war raging within Eiri as he considered my plea.

“Fine,” is what Eiri eventually said.

Thank you God for small favors, I’d thought to myself with a sigh.

Eiri pulled me roughly against him and captured my lips in a kiss that stole my breath. Then he stalked off back to his office, leaving me reeling in his wake, but not without a last scathing look at the front door of the condominium. He pushed through the swinging door that separated the living room from the bedrooms and called over his shoulder, “If he wakes Sayo or makes you cry, I swear to God, I will kill him.”

The threat left me shuddering. It was not wise to take Eiri lightly.

“Shuichi Shindou!”

Taking a deep breath, I gained what courage I could and went to answer the door and the million and one questions that I knew my best friend had.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	31. Take the Egg and Shave It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rift between Bad Luck grows wider with the addition of an ultimatum

**Chapter 31: Take the Egg and Shave It**

“You know…!”

It did little to ignore the hotheaded keyboardist.

“In real life, Shindou-san would never be able to get away with this.”

Hiro sighed. He had a headache. “This is real life, Fujisaki.”

Suguru Fujisaki barked out a dry laugh.

With another sigh, Hiro folded his arms along the top of his new galaxy white Ibanez RG1527M Prestige 7-string electric guitar and watched as Suguru paced angrily from one end of the rehearsal studio to the other. Like at that tennis tournament Ayaka had dragged him to not too long ago, he was beginning to become dizzy watching him go back and forth. If Suguru kept it up for much longer, he would wear a path in the floor. Of course, the cost to replace the floor would come out of their paychecks. Just what they needed. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Most handlers would never allow someone in Shindou-san’s position to get away with as much as Shindou-san has been allowed to get away with.”

“Yeah, well,” Hiro said as he straightened, “most handlers don’t have to put up with Yuki-san.”

True enough. It did not help that said partner to their fearless leader was the brother-in-law to their boss. He, Suguru Fujisaki, may be Tohma Seguchi’s cousin, but Eiri Yuki outranked him. Most of the time, he corrected himself silently with a smile. His smug expression slipped. A scowl replaced it. “I can’t believe Mr. K and Sakano-san are allowing this farce to continue.”

Hiro sighed from the stool as he returned to doing his warm up exercises. “Not like they have much of a choice.”

“Of course they do,” Suguru barked. “All Mr. K has to do is take that magnum of his that he seems to be in love with and-”

Hiro scoffed. “You can’t expect Mr. K to do something like that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Look, Fujisaki-”

“He’s done it before,” Suguru reminded him.

“Yes,” Hiro conceded, “but Shuichi didn’t nearly overdose before.”

“His own fault!”

He had to give Suguru that.

“Does he even care about this band anymore?”

Hiro was beginning to suspect that Suguru complained so much because he was in love with the sound of his own voice.

Nevertheless, he could not blame the keyboardist for voicing such doubts. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether Shuichi was still supporting the band that they had created together back in middle school. He had even confronted his singer not too long ago about the very real doubts that all of Japan seemed to have.

_“How can you ask something like that? You of all people should know that Bad Luck is my life!”_

Hiro had no doubts that what his best friend told him so adamantly was the truth, but he still questioned its validity. He had to. Music was in Shuichi’s blood. It was in his soul, part of his very being. At least it used to be. First came the music, but then love, marriage and the baby carriage filed in one after another after that. They took up so much room in Shuichi’s heart that the band had been pushed to the sidelines. It was hard to compete with the new loves in Shuichi’s life.

_“You don’t have to compete!”_

That’s what Shuichi claimed, but it was hard not to, especially when there was a call in the middle of a recording session from Eiri Yuki saying that Shuichi had to come home now because Sayo had thrown up all over herself. You could not very well in good conscience tell Shuichi that he could not leave early to see to his sick daughter even though this was the first time in weeks that Bad Luck had actually sat down to work on an album that was long overdue. Family came first before anything. They all understood that. Hiro did not have a problem with that.

“I mean, it’s been a month! A month!”

“And we have two more to go until he can come back to work,” Hiro reminded the other man calmly.

“Exactly!”

Hiro sighed, but otherwise said nothing.

The problem was the million and one side projects that seemed to be competing with Bad Luck for Shuichi’s attention. His friend had tried to do too much at once and it cost him; it cost them all. So, no, he could not blame Suguru for his constant questioning of their friend’s loyalty. However, it was becoming increasingly annoying being forced to listen to him bitch and moan on a daily basis.

“We’re supposed to be putting together an album! One which is three years behind schedule!”

Here we go again, Hiro sighed. He wished K were here right about now. This was one time when he would not mind a bullet to the head.

“And instead of being here in the recording studio, he’s gallivanting around town producing a clothing line based around the prostitute clothes he wears on stage, some smelly assed cologne, recording songs for some stupid assed movie, acting in said stupid assed movie that I’m sure will be a big flop and then lending his voice to some anime that proves that the creators have no sense of originality!”

Hiro sighed. Same old. Same old. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he just had to add, “And let not forget that he got married to Yuki-san and had a daughter.”

“Yeah. Yeah! That’s right! That, too.”

Everything about Shuichi just seemed to piss Suguru off. How they had managed to remain a band for as long as they had was something that he would never be able to understand.

“Oh! And now he’s posing for--for--Playgirl!”

“Blaze.”

“Whatever!” Suguru glared vehemently at Hiro. “Do you have any idea what that does for the reputation of a band like ours? We’re a pop band, Hiro. Pop. Band. We are not _that_ type of band!”

A weird sense of déjà vu washed over Hiro. Those were almost the same exact words he had tossed at Shuichi when he confronted him about Blaze.

_“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Posing nude on the cover of this trashy porn magazine?! You have any idea what this‘s going to do to Bad Luck? To our reputation?”_

Shuichi had just smiled sadly at him from the other side of the open door. “I knew you’d say something like that.”

_“Then why the hell-?!”_

_“I didn’t have any other choice.”_

_“What the hell kind of excuse is that? ‘No other choice’? I’d think you’d be a little more creative than that!”_

Shuichi had shaken his head with that sad smile still on his face. _“It’s not an excuse.”_

“Yeah, I know,” Hiro agreed with the younger man. “I’m with you on that, but it’s not like he’s the first to pull something like this. Besides, you seem to be the only one making such a big deal out of it. You heard K. He said-”

“I know what he said,” Suguru snapped.

“Then you know he was right.”

Whether the American was right or not was not the issue here. “You of all people should know that not all press is good press! This could every easily have blown up in our faces and you know that!”

Hiro winced at the blow. The last time their manager tried to use a controversial issue that had surrounded the band, it had nearly cost them everything.

“And you dare sit there and tell me I’m wrong!”

“No, you’re right. You are right, but Fujisaki,” Hiro continued, raising his voice over that of his outspoken keyboardist, “it didn’t. Besides, I explained about all that.”

_Shuichi emerged from the master closet with a white envelope clutched in his hand. “Here,” he said holding the envelope out towards Hiro. His violet gaze locked onto the tatami floor at his feet. He did not have the courage to look his friend in the eye._

_“What’s this?” Hiro asked, taking it from Shuichi’s trembling grasp. He turned the envelope over. Both sides were blank, but he did notice that the crease between the envelope itself and its flap was well worn. “What does this have to do-?”_

_“Just--open it,” was all Shuichi said in that same sad tone before he stepped around Hiro, circled the bed and vanished out the bedroom door._

_Confused, Hiro lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out a glossy sheet of photo paper. When he flipped it over, his eyebrows flew into his long reddish-brown hair. “What the hell?!”_

* * *

 

_He stepped out of the short hall that led to the master bedroom suite into the dining room with a hundred thousand questions on his mind. He found Shuichi sitting at the head of the table with his back to him. The singer was staring out the wall of floor to ceiling windows at the Tokyo landscape._

_“Eiri…”_

_Hiro paused._

_“…He’s the one who chose what photo was going to be on the cover.”_

_With as protective as Eiri was, it amazed him that the writer even allowed Shuichi to be on the cover of something like Blaze. There had been no problem with that interview Shuichi agreed to a few years back, but this was a horse of another color. “Yuki-san?” To say he was surprised would be an understatement._

_Shuichi made a noise of agreement._

_“But-?”_

_“Actually,” Shuichi continued in that same sad tone, “Yoshi took that photo years ago as a favor.”_

_“A--favor?”_

_“It’s the less--provocative one we took.”_

_Gulping, Hiro felt his face grow warm. Dear God._

_“They were for Eiri. For his birthday.” With that, Shuichi fell silent once again._

_Hiro drew his brows together in confusion. “…But…why? Shu, what’s-?”_

_“I didn’t have any other choice,” Shuichi whispered._

_Hiro gazed down at the photograph in his hand._

“He can explain until he’s blue in the face and I still wouldn’t give a rat’s ass! It‘s his own damn fault for allowing himself to get blackmailed into being naked on the cover of a freaking porn magazine! A whore by any other name is still a slut!”

Hiro‘s hand stilled around his guitar. “…That was uncalled for.”

“I don’t think so.”

“…Sug-”

“No! I’ve had it with his crap! He either pulls his shit together or-”

“-Or what?” Hiro inquired. His voice had fallen to a dangerous tone and his eyes narrowed into slits.

Not fazed in the least by the over-protectiveness of their lead singer‘s best friend, Suguru turned towards Hiro. He crossed the studio until the two of them were standing nose to nose. “Or Bad Luck will soon be in need of a new lead singer,” he hissed.

_“…You…slept with Yoshio?” He could not keep the disgust out of his voice._

_A tear slipped down Shuichi’s cheek. “…Yes,” he confirmed. His voice was barely above a whisper._

_Son of a bitch. He knew it. When Shuichi brought that bastard into the studio that day a couple years back, he had known that that man was going to bring them all nothing but trouble. He knew just by looking at him that that man could not be trusted. Damn it all to hell and back. He so did not like it when he was right. “Why the hell would you-”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“-do something so ridiculously asinine?” Hiro demanded to know._

_“I don’t know,” Shuichi sobbed louder. Another tear rolled down his cheek. “I was drunk and upset and--and I just--I don’t…”_

_A horrific thought crossed Hiro’s mind. His face paled. He almost did not want to ask. “…Did he…?”_

_Shuichi said nothing, but a third tear followed closely by a forth dripped down his face._

_Hiro clenched his free hand into a fist. He swore that if ever saw that bastard Yoshio Nakamura again, he would personally kill the son of a bitch._

It seemed to take twice as long as normal for his brain to process what he heard. Slowly, he started to understand that the syllables formed words and that the words were creating sentences that were supposed to express thoughts and emotions. Then it hit him like a slap upside the head. Wide eyed, Hiro jumped up from the stool. His hasty movement caused the stool to topple over backwards. It slammed hard into the floor with a loud clatter. His guitar dangled from his hand. Anger coursed through him, anger and shock that Suguru would even suggest such a thing. “You can’t mean that,” he breathed.

“I can,” Suguru bit back.

Hiro swallowed the bile that filled his mouth. He was not even aware of when he started trembling, but having noticed it, he could not seem to stop it. “Seguchi-san wouldn‘t-”

“My cousin is the one who suggested the idea.”

Hiro paled.

“Back to Zero is to be released by the end of the summer. No. Matter. What.”

Lightheaded, Hiro tumbled to the floor. This could not be happening. Why did it seem as if everything was crashing down around them all at once? He could understand the impatience their boss had with them, but…

…Wait a minute!

“End of summer?”

“That‘s what I was told.”

Hiro felt nauseous. “But…Shu…he won’t…he doesn’t return until…”

Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “Exactly.”

They say when it rains it pours.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: "Take the egg and shave it" is a proverb (I am uncertain as to the origin) that basically means something just doesn't make sense.


	32. Things Couldn’t Get Any Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if the turmoil surrounding the band wasn’t bad enough, Shuichi receives devastating news.

**Chapter 32: Things Couldn’t Get Any Worse**

Her stride up the front walk to her house halted mid-movement. The stack of mail was instantly forgotten as the return address of the topmost white business-sized envelope caught her attention. Foundation Radiology Group. She lifted the slim envelope up from the pile with her free hand. Never taking her dark gaze that her only son had inherited from the trembling envelope, she clasped the rest of that day’s mail under her arm. She wiggled an unsteady finger under the loose flap at the corner and tore the top of the envelope open. Gulping, she reached in and pulled out a sheet of unlined paper that had been folded lengthwise thrice. She had to hold the shaky paper tightly with both of her hands in order to read what was typed on the sheet of paper

“Dear Mrs. Shindou,” she read silently. “The left breast biopsy you had on July 18 did in…deed…show…”

The mail she had been hugging under her arm slid slowly out of her grasp and down her side.

The mother to Japan’s hottest pop star buried her face in her hands. Her lithe body shook as silent sobs wracked her body.

Long forgotten, the mail fluttered to the ground around her, entrapping her in a sea of white.

 

* * *

 

**A Couple Weeks Later**

Eiri was quietly sipping his tea at the dining room table as his husband and two-year-old daughter finished eating their breakfast. Eating was a relative term though as Sayo had more food on her than in her. She was becoming more and more like her daddy. The outlook for the future was not one he was looking forward to.

The sudden ringing of the phone interrupted the quiet morning.

He watched as Shuichi stuffed the last of his toast into his mouth before pushing his chair back and dusting the crumbs off his hands, sauntered into the kitchen to answer the phone. “ _Moshi. Moshi_ ,” he heard Shuichi say. “…Yeah…Oh! Hey, Ma. What’s up?”

Eiri turned his attention back to his daughter who, in her attempt to stuff a piece of pancake into her mouth, had dribbled the syrup she had insisted on drowning it in down the front of her pajama top. Good thing it was Shuichi’s turn to do the laundry. Though, now that he thought about it, doing laundry would probably be a lot less of a hassle than trying to clean Sayo up.

“…Oh that’s right. Maiko said something about that…“ There was a gasp. “They what?”

Alarmed by the panic in his husband’s voice, Eiri glanced sharply over his shoulder into the kitchen. Shuichi had his back to him.

“Malignant cells?”

Eiri froze.

“What‘s--? Oh, God,” Shuichi moaned.

Pushing slowly out of his chair, Eiri silently walked up behind Shuichi.

Feeling woozy, Shuichi had to grab hold of the bar top before him to keep from dropping to the floor. Pulling out the nearest bar stool, he collapsed down into it just as his knees buckled beneath him.

“So,” his mother continued, “I go to the JFCR on the thirtieth to talk to them about what my options are.”

Shuichi nodded distantly.

Established in 1908, The Japanese Foundation for Cancer Research was the first institute in Japan to specialize in cancer. It was known the world over as one of the world’s top class institutes in bioscience. In January 2001, it had the honor of receiving His Imperial Highness Prince Hitachi as Honorary President (1). So he knew that his mother would be in good hands at the institute.

“I told your sister this when I spoke to her earlier. I want both of you to call up your doctor and tell them that you want to schedule a mammogram. It‘ll take a couple of months to get in.”

Shuichi stopped himself from nodding as his brain processed what he had just been told. “Both of us?”

“Yes. You and your sister.”

Shuichi blinked.

When he came out, or more accurately when he was forced to come out, there were those in the family who started giving his parents the cold shoulder. Worse were those who blamed his mother for his “turning gay”. They claimed that she “must have done a rotten job as a mother” to have a son who would “decide” one day out of the blue that he was going to turn down the opportunity to have a normal life with a wife who could give him a son in favor of some “playboy floozy”.

_“How can you allow him to continue gallivanting around town like that? He’s a disgrace to the family!”_ they would demand.

Every time, his mother would just smile and say proudly, _“How? Because he is my son and I love him. What kind of mother would I be if I judged him based on something as superficial as who he chooses to love?”_

She said that, but that did not stop her from teasing him relentlessly about how she now had “two daughters”. But just because he was gay did not mean that he suddenly turned into a female. “I understand Maiko going, but I’m a guy.”

“That doesn’t matter.

Shuichi blinked. Now he was confused. “Why?”

“Men as well as women can get breast cancer, Shuichi.”

“Really?” He never knew that.

“It’s more common in women because during puberty a girl's ovaries make female hormones, causing breast ducts to grow, lobules to form at the ends of ducts, and the amount of stroma to increase. In males, hormones made by the testicles restrict further growth of breast tissue. Breast cancer is less common in men because their breast duct cells are less developed than those of women and because their breast cells are not constantly exposed to the growth-promoting effects of female hormones (2). ”

Shuichi’s head was spinning. Most of the time, he forgot that his mother had been a nurse, but then there were times like these where the knowledge slapped him upside the head. “Uh…”

Knowing her son all too well, Mrs. Shindou giggled. “Just contact your doctor okay? It’s better to be safe than sorry. Tell him that malignant cells were found in your mother’s left breast and that you‘d like to have a mammogram done.”

Truthfully, he did not feel as if he had anything to worry about. Maiko, as a girl, had a higher chance of developing breast cancer than he did, but then again…Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at his daughter who seemed to be painting her highchair with the syrup. “Alright.” If for nothing else than he would do it for his daughter.

“It’s something that you should have done every couple of years anyway just like when you go in for your prostate exam…You do go in for your prostate exam, don’t you Shuichi?”

Shuichi could feel his face go up in flames. “Uh, yeah, Ma.”

Behind him, Eiri chuckled. Shuichi had a very thorough prostate exam every single night. Several times a night in fact on some occasions.

Knowing his husband all too well, Shuichi raised his foot and lowered it as hard as he could onto his Eiri’s foot. He smirked when he heard Eiri curse under his breath.

“Good.”

Shuichi could hear a sudden noise over the line.

“Oh, your sister’s here. I gotta go. She and Gina taking me out for brunch.”

“Oo!”

“Give my granddaughter a kiss for me.”

“I will.”

“Alright. I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you, too, Ma. Bye.” Biting his lip, Shuichi stared down at the receiver that suddenly blurred behind a veil of tears. He hoped his mother was going to be alright. A sob escaped into the quietness of the condo.

Eiri stepped forward and enveloped his lithe lover into his arms.

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. True place. It’s in the Koto ward of Tokyo. Find out about the JFCR at: jfcr (dot) or (dot) jp (slash) English (slash)
> 
> 2\. Found at: Cancer (dot) org. Search for “what is male breast cancer?”
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my mom. When I originally wrote this chapter, she had gone for her annual mammogram only to discover they'd found something on the x-rays. She went for a biopsy and discovered malignant cells in her left breast. Then they discovered some in her right breast. She went in for treatment at Roswell Park Cancer Institute here in Buffalo, NY and is now in remission.


	33. What Did You See?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bumper sticker has Shuichi scratching his head.

**Chapter 33: What Do You See?**

“Huh?” He did not get it. Shuichi cocked his head first one way and then another. He even went so far as to flip his laptop upside down, but he still did not get it.

“What the hell are you doing?” came the unexpected voice behind him.

Startled, Shuichi glanced over his shoulder to see his husband standing in the doorway that separated the living room from the rest of the condominium. “Nothing,” he said automatically.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

“Well…“ Shuichi scratched his head sheepishly. “Are you done?”

“…For now,” Eiri said slowly, his suspicion growing.

“Cool. Then you can-”

Eiri narrowed his gaze. “I can what?”

“Tell me what you see.”

Eiri blinked. “What?”

“Tell. Me. What. You. Think.”

The temperature dropped several degrees. He did not like to be patronized. Shuichi was going to get his ass beat for that later, but for now, he put it aside as his curiosity was getting the better of him. “Why?”

“I want you to take a look at something.”

“At what?”

“This.”

“This what?”

Shuichi indicated his laptop screen. “What do you see?”

Wondering if this was some sort of trick, Eiri slipped his glasses out of his shirt pocket. Sliding them on, he slowly made his way across the living room to where Shuichi was sitting on the floor by the coffee table. He crouched down besides Shuichi and twirled the laptop around so he could get a closer look at the screen. His eye twitched as he realized what it was his husband had been ogling. Trying to reign in his temper and the strong urge to beat Shuichi senseless, he pulled back and glared at his singer husband. “And why, pray tell, are you looking at a pair of tits?” he inquired. His voice was tight.

Shuichi blinked. He turned from Eiri to the screen and back. “Huh?”

Eiri indicated that black and white picture on the screen that clearly was of a naked woman’s chest.

Shuichi tilted his head and studied the picture a new.

“Don’t play dumb Shuichi Uesugi,” Eiri bit angrily.

Shuichi froze at the sound of his name on his lover‘s lips. Fear trickled down his spine. The color drained from his face. Eiri rarely used his name and he used his married name less so; unless he was horny or pissed at him. He gulped nervously. Judging by the twisted expression on Eiri’s face, he was guessing that Eiri was not in the mood to shag anytime soon. That meant that he was angry with him, but why? What did he do? “B-but, Eiri-” Tears filled his large violet eyes. “I-I just--I just wanted to know what you saw,” he sobbed.

Eiri rolled his eyes and heaved a disgusted sigh. “Boobs. I see a picture of a woman‘s boobs.”

Sniffling, Shuichi’s face went lobster red in embarrassment at the blatant way his husband could say such a word. “A-are you--sure?“

“Of course I am,“ Eiri snapped.

“W-well, I, I don’t see that.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Eiri cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you see?”

Shuichi did not even have to think about it. “Two men dancing.”

Eiri’s arms went slack. “Two men?”

Shuichi nodded.

“Dancing?”

Shuichi nodded again.

Not believing him, Eiri pushed Shuichi out of the way and really got a good look at the image Shuichi had been looking at. There was a caption at the bottom of the picture. “’If you see two men dancing then’…”

Even though he knew his husband did not like it when he did it, Shuichi rose up on his knees and peered over Eiri’s shoulder and read the screen silently as Eiri read it aloud.

“..‘there’s something you should know’.”

“See! See!” Shuichi pointed at the screen and jumped up and down. “I don’t get it! What are they talking about?”

Clearing his throat, Eiri ignored the heat flooding his face and returning his glasses to their resting place in his shirt pocket, turned and walked out of the room without a word.

“Eiri,” Shuichi whined after him. “What is it? What are they talking about?” Without bothering to shut off his laptop, he tore through the house after his husband. “Eiri! Come on!”

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I love this one. It’s based on a bumper sticker that I found on Myspace when I first wrote this. I thought it was hilarious. I forget what the second half of the sentence said and since I cannot find it anymore I had to make it up, but it did go something like the above. This chapter makes Shuichi seem like an idiot, but that’s why we (and Eiri of course) love him, huh?


	34. You Bothered Me For That?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi interrupted Eiri at work for an asinine fact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert: “Kagome, Kagome” Japanese children’s chant

**Chapter 34: You Bothered Me For That?**

_**Kagome Kagome, Kago no naka no Tori wa** _   
_**Itsu Itsu deyaru? Yoake no ban ni** _   
_**Tsuru to kame ga subetta.** _   
_**Ushiro no shoumen daare?** _

**Kagome, Kagome, the bird in the cage,**   
**when will you come out?**   
**In the evening of the dawn,**   
**the crane and turtle slipped.**   
**Who stands right behind you now?**

Eiri’s eye twitched as he heard Shuichi’s voice looming closer to where he had taken refuge within his study. Usually, the sound of Shuichi singing stirred up his libido, which in turn tended to get the both of them into some serious trouble depending on where they were or what they were doing at the time, but now it was starting to wear on his nerves. If he heard that song again anytime soon, he swore that he was going to snap. “Yeah, snap his scrawny little neck,” he muttered in annoyance.

When he heard the rattling of the doorknob, he scowled. He should have known it would be too good to be true. Since the baka had been forced to take leave, he was starting to grow stir crazy. A bored baka meant an increasingly irritated Eiri Yuki. If he did not love the psychotic singer, he would strangle him. Actually, that did not sound like a bad idea. A light growl vibrated in his throat as the door was slid open.

“Hey, Eiri?”

Eiri hunched over his computer. Maybe if he stayed quiet and said absolutely nothing than maybe Shuichi would get the hint and leave him alone. He still had not finished this damned-able story and the deadline was frighteningly closer. Frankly, he could care less about deadlines. On one hand, they were just the motivation and kick in the ass that he needed to finish his stories. On the other hand, they put undo pressure on a writer. Sometimes things had to be sacrificed in a story in order for the story to be finished on time. He only wanted to make sure he finished his relatively on time so that he did not have to put up with his editor.

“Eiri?”

Shuichi’s voice sounded closer this time.

“Eiri?”

Damn. “What?” Eiri muttered around the unlit cigarette clamped between his lips. His golden eyes never left the screen and the fingers continued flying over the keys in a blur of movement.

June was so close to the edge. So very close.

A sense of urgency swept through Eiri as his latest novel reached its climax.

“Did you know that Kagome is not a traditional Japanese name?”

His train of thought popped like a nose bubble. Eiri’s hands paused over the keyboard. The consistent noise of the click-clack of the keys fell silent. He looked up over his computer at the bookcase opposite him and blinked.

“Isn’t that funny? I mean, one of the characters from Inuyasha is named ‘Kagome’, but it’s not a real Japanese name. Ya know, I never knew that. Did you?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “But it is part of that children's chant. Ya know ‘Kagome. Kagome’. Apparently, the meaning behind the chant is lost. You know the chant, right?”

Of course he knew all about that stupid children’s game. He had played it as a child with Mika and Tatsuha just as he suspected Shuichi had done with Maiko.

A Japanese children’s game, “Kagome, Kagome” was similar to the game of tag. One child is chosen as the oni and sits with his eyes covered. The other children join hands and walk in circles around the oni while chanting the song for the game. When the song stops, the child who was playing the role of the _oni_ speaks aloud the name of the person behind him, and if he is correct, that person will exchange places with the _oni_.

_“Kagome Kagome, Kago no naka no Tori wa_ ,” Shuichi started singing.

Dear God, help him.

“And you are telling me this…why?”

Shuichi stopped singing and shrugged. “Just thought you’d like to know,” he said.

Eiri sighed as Shuichi skipped out of the room.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The information about “Kagome” is from wikipedia and issendai (dot) com. There are varying translations for the chant. Anybody who has taken a foreign language class knows that there is no one way to translate something from one language to another.


	35. The Counter Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tohma gave Bad Luck an ultimatum, but Suguru may have come up with a compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is from Suguru's POV

**Chapter 35: The Counter Offer**

**NG Productions Executive Offices**

Okay, so maybe threatening Shuichi to clean up his act otherwise he would soon be looking elsewhere for employment was going a bit too far, but it was the swift kick in the ass that Shuichi needed. It had to be.

Besides, there was no way that Tohma would actually go through with it…right?

Shuichi would never really be fired from the very band that he himself started…right?

Tohma would never dismiss the guy who put NG Productions on the map…right?

As much as Suguru did not like to admit it, Shuichi Shindou was Bad Luck. If Shuichi left, then the band had no future. Though, apparently, Tohma did not see it that way. He felt there were better singers out there than Shuichi. He’d said any number of times that any of the three of them could be replaced in a heartbeat.

On the other hand, Suguru had to admit that his cousin had a point. If Shuichi was indeed as serious about the band as he claimed, then he had to start acting like it. As it were, all of these side projects were taking up too much of his time. As a result, the band was suffering.

Don’t get him wrong. There was not anything wrong with having a side project or two. He and Hiro had a little side project of their own. With Shuichi being a no show for the better part of the last three years, they’d needed something to occupy their time.

But he had to draw the line when those side projects stopped being side projects and became the main focus.

If these side projects were so important to Shuichi, then maybe it was better if he did leave the band. Shuichi could not have it both ways. You could either let the spider eat the fly, ensuring that the spider would live to see another day or you could save the fly, in which case the spider will die from starvation and malnutrition. The spider or the fly? Which will you save? Which will you let die?

According to Tohma, ad Luck had to release Back to Zero by the end of the summer no matter what, but Shuichi’s physicians were not allowing Shuichi to return to work until September at the earliest, so how could they complete an album when the main component to said album was not going to be around to finish it?

_“Find a way,”_ was what Tohma said.

“Sorry about that.”

The sound of his cousin’s voice broke into Suguru’s thoughts. He forced his gaze from the awe-inspiring view of the city to watch Tohma stroll back into the office. The door shut behind him.

Tohma crossed the office. He rounded his desk and settled himself in his chair. “So, Suguru, what can I do for you?”

“You said that Back to Zero was to be released by the end of summer.”

“Correct.” Tohma leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. “I still stand by that.”

“And I agree with you,” Suguru said. “I want to release Back to Zero just as much as you do, but,” he licked his suddenly dry lips, “you do know that Shuichi will not be able to return to work until-”

“I am well aware that Shindou will not be able to return to the studio full time until September.”

Suguru frowned. “Then you do realize that it’ll be next to impossible to finish the CD without Shindou, right? So, how-?”

“I really am not interested in how you do it. I just want it finished for it‘s release August 31.”

Suguru leaned forward. “You can’t really expect-”

“Yes, I do. I expect you to do whatever it takes to finish Back to Zero otherwise I will take control of the CD and release it myself and if that happens, I will drop Bad Luck from NG Productions.”

Shocked, Suguru jumped to his feet. “You can’t be serious!”

Tohma leaned forward, resting his clasped hands before him on his desk. The mask he always wore dropped away. “I have never been more serious in my entire life.”

All the energy drained out of Suguru at once. His legs unable to support him and his knees on the verge of giving out on him, he collapsed into the chair.

“Tell me, Suguru,” Tohma continued as he settled back comfortably in his chair.

Suguru lifted his head. That fake façade was back. He shuddered. That smile always did give him the creeps.

“What is there left to do?”

Suguru gulped. “Well, all of the tracks are complete. Shindou laid down the backing vocals and ad libs for all of them, but he still needs to lay down the vocals for about a quarter of them.”

Tohma nodded.

Suguru looked down and studied his feet.

He got it. He really did. Tohma was not saying anything that he himself had not been saying for some time now. Hiro would attest to that, but that did not stop him from thinking that his cousin was just searching for an excuse, any excuse, to rid himself of Shuichi Shindou. Everybody within the family knew that Tohma liked Shuichi for the moneymaker that he was for the record company. Whether as a solo artist, the lead singer of Bad Luck or as Eiri Yuki’s lover, Shuichi Shindou was one of NG Productions’ biggest selling artists, second only to Ryuichi Sakuma and Nittle Grasper. Shuichi caused Bad Luck to gain the popularity and attention it has now. Shuichi helped Bad Luck become more than just some one-hit wonder. Shuichi kept the band in the forefront of everybody’s mind. Shuichi had helped put the fledgling NG Productions on the map.

But it was the part about Shuichi being Eiri Yuki’s lover that caused Tohma so much distress. At first, he may have been one of the couple’s main supporters, but that all changed the first time that his brother-in-law landed himself in the hospital when he coughed up blood. To this day, he was still against their relationship, claiming being with Shuichi was the worst thing Eiri could possibly ever do.

So it would come as no surprise if his cousin were indeed using Shuichi’s near death experience to finally get rid of the thorn in his side. That was something he, Suguru Fujisaki, would not permit however, even if it meant going up against someone like Tohma Seguchi. Maybe he could get his cousin to agree to some sort of compromise. It was worth a try at least.

“Tohma,” he spoke up quietly.

Tohma spun his chair around. “Was there something else, Suguru?”

“Actually.” The youngest member of Bad Luck raised his head. “Hiro and I have been working on a little side project.”

Intrigued, Tohma leaned forward. “Go on.”

“It’s a jazz/blues album.”

Tohma raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Suguru nodded. “So, uhm, we were thinking that maybe we could place Back to Zero on hiatus until Shindou’s doctors give him the okay to return to the studio and in the meantime, Nakano and I could put out-”

“No.”

Suguru jumped to the edge of his chair. “But why-?”

“If you and Mr. Nakano would like to continue with this side project of yours then I have no qualms, but Back to Zero is to be completed for its release at the end of the summer.” Tohma settled back in his chair and spun it around so that he could watch the hustle and bustle of the city below.

Silently cursing, Suguru stood, bowed politely and left.

A devilish sly smirk crossed Tohma’s face as he heard his office door close.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	36. Ghost Whisperer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi apologizes to the cast of the "Ghost Whisperer".

**Chapter 31: Ghost Whisperer**

EXT. - SKIES OVER JAPAN - MIDDAY

Fighter jets from the Japan Air Self-Defense Force as well as various grounds troops are fighting what appears to be a losing battle against alien intergalactic spacecraft within Earth’s atmosphere. REN AYUGAI, a Lieutenant in the JASDF, is a hotshot pilot determined to prove to his fellow JASDF members that he earned his rank and that it was not simply handed to him because of his father.

REN  
 _(screaming)_  
Eat this you ugly son of a bitch!

REN releases a couple of missiles and then veers of. The missiles hit their target and the alien spacecraft REN has been fighting explodes in a fiery display. There are cheers over the radio.

FUWA  
 _(voice over)_  
Nice job Lieutenant!

NISHI  
 _(cursing as voice over)_

Several small explosions rock the fighter jet that REN’S longtime friend and fellow Lieutenant KATSUTOSHI NISHI is piloting. REN searches for NISHI as he continues to use his guns against the alien spacecraft.

REN  
Nishi! Are you alright?

NISHI  
 _(voice over)_  
Yeah! Dammit! This is ridiculous! Where are they coming from?  
 _(from his pov. looks up and sees another alien spacecraft directly behind REN)_  
Ren! Look out! Behind you!

REN  
 _(curses)_

REN steers his fighter into a barrel roll, barely escaping a hail of bullets from the alien spacecraft. A blood-curdling scream is heard over the radio. He recognizes it as NISHI.

REN  
 _(as NISHI continues screaming)_  
Nishi!

The back end of NISHI’S fighter jet is emitting black smoke as it nosedives through the air to the ground forces below.

REN  
Hold on! I’m coming!

Before REN can even turn his fighter jet around, NISHI’S fighter plane explodes.

Ren  
 _(stuttering. In shock)_  
Ni--Ni--shi  
 _(a growl as anger builds within him)_  
No! Damn you! You’ll pay for what you did you bastard!  
 _(screams)_

“Cut,” the voice director called over the intercom. “Nice job, guys.”

With a sigh, Shuichi lowered the clunky headphones down around his neck. That had been an experience and a half to say the least.

 

* * *

 

**TV Tokyo Studios Cafeteria- Minato, Tokyo, Japan**

They’d finished the death scene quickly.

He was not sure if this was something he would like doing on a permanent basis, but with the TV Tokyo studios being relatively close to where he lived in Chiyoda with his husband and daughter, it made guest staring on _Ghost Whisperer_ simple. Had he been forced to take a train or fly to somewhere outside of Tokyo, there would have been no way Dr. Koto, Dr. Takata or Eiri would have agreed to let him complete voicing the small part he had in the series. The TV Tokyo execs would have been forced to recast the role.

Shuichi popped the last slice of hard-boiled egg of his Makunouchi bento that Eiri had packed for him into his mouth as laughter floated around him from the various other cast and crewmembers who were also taking a lunch break.

“Hey, Shindou.”

Shuichi looked up and spied Doni Itoh sliding onto the bench besides him. Doni was only about five years older than Eiri was but his jet black hair already had a sprinkling of grey throughout it. Doni, who had been in the industry since he was about twelve, played the part of Lieutenant Ren Ayugai in the series. “Hey.”

“Nice job today.”

Shuichi blushed at the praise. “Thanks.”

Doni grabbed a pair of chopsticks out of the container in the center of the table. He pulled them apart. “This was your first time doing any voice over work?”

“Yeah,” Shuichi nodded. He paused and cocked his head in thought. “Well, for our second album, Heartless, I did some narration for this commercial we had advertising its release. Does that count?”

“I think you‘ve found a new profession,” Doni teased.

Shuichi laughed. “Maybe.”

Doni whispered “ _Itadakimasu_ ” over his Sake bento. He then used his chopsticks to break off a small section of his broiled salmon before popping it into his mouth (1).

Shuichi gathered his chopsticks and napkins, stuck them into his now empty bento box, and replaced the lid. Grabbing his canned coffee, he gulped the remaining now cold liquid in two gulps. He set the empty can on top of his bento box.

“So,” Doni continued as he took a sip of his soda to wash down the fish his girlfriend had cooked to perfection, “how ya feeling? You must be feeling better if they let you return to work, huh?”

Shuichi cringed. “Yeah, uhm, about that…” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Placing the flats of his hands on the tabletop, he bowed deeply over the table. “I’m sorry that I sorta screwed things up!”

“Nah,” Doni said, brushing aside the apology with a wave of his hand. “Things happen. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

Doni shrugged a shoulder. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. I had this friend back in--middle school I think it was who overdosed on aspirin. He wasn’t so lucky.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.”

Doni nodded solemnly.

“Itoh!”

Both Shuichi and Doni looked up at the loud voice. Shuichi did not recognize the guy.

“Nakazato wants you in the booth when you’re finished!”

“Sure,” Doni called back.

The man nodded and then vanished.

Shuichi opened his mouth to ask just who the guy was when his pocket vibrated. Realizing that it was his cellphone, he pulled it out. He squealed at the familiar name that flashed across the screen. Flipping it open, he put it to his ear.

“You done yet?” barked the impatient voice over the line before he had a chance to say anything.

“Yup! I’ll be right out!” Gathering his things together, he bowed quickly to Doni and sped out of the cafeteria in a blur of color.

Doni chuckled after the younger man as he popped another piece of salmon into his mouth.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) For more about Japanese bento boxes go to: en(dot)wikipedia(dot)org(slash)wiki(slash)Bento_box
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: The script from the anime Shuichi had a guest spot in was outlined (when I wrote it on Microsoft word) the way a real script would be. The only difference would be is that the actors lines are supposed to be centered. I had my father help me with that since he is a screenwriter/producer/director of his own independent horror movie company called RedScream based here in western New York.


	37. Blindsided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi is given special permission to come into the studio, but he never expected this

**Chapter 37: Blindsided**

**NG Productions**

“…So?” Suguru Fujisaki drawled from his seat across the table from Shuichi. The members of Bad Luck were currently taking up residence in one of the conference rooms. With Tohma’s ultimatum ringing in their ears and hanging threateningly over their heads and not to mention the deadline that was looming ever closer, a consensus had to be made one way or another. “What do you think?”

Not sure what to think, Shuichi sat back and combed his fingers through his hair with a sigh. Lacing his hands behind his head, he tipped his head back and stared up at the dazzling white drop ceiling.

In all honesty, he was just thankful to have the opportunity to catch up on his work. They said hindsight was twenty-twenty. There was a reason for that saying. For it was only after everything was said and done that you could look back and see everything with the utmost clarity. Really though, what was the point of doing that? Knowing you should have done that instead of this or you should have gone here instead of there. Pointing the finger does nothing to change the fact that the milk was split. What is done is done. At least, that was what Eiri told him, but despite those eloquent words of wisdom, Eiri continued to berate him every chance he had for doing “something so idiotically asinine”.

_“You’re like a secretary who is so behind in his work that he doesn’t realize that the tower of papers is about to come tumbling down until he finds himself trapped beneath the avalanche.”_

As harsh as those words were, they were the truth. He had just become so disgusted with the rut that Bad Luck seemed to be forever trapped in. Everything was suffering because of it. Suguru, Hiro and he were always at each other’s throat, more so than usual. It grew increasingly worse as time continued to tick. All the bickering and infighting made it nearly impossible to get anything accomplished. Having a gun-toting psychotic American with the patience of a fruit fly for a manager did not help matters either. If anything, K just seemed to make everything worse. Sickened with how Bad Luck was being run, he had been forced to turn elsewhere in order to explore the creativity that was being suppressed. This substitute ended up being his downfall in the end.

Shuichi had a feeling that Sakano knew where things had gone wrong and knew how they should go about mending the ever widening tear, but the man was just so submissive and way too emotional for his own good, that trying to have a serious conversation with him was more impossible than getting a terrorist to admit he may be blowing everything way out of proportion.

Of course, K was K. All he ever said was that they just had “to try harder”. Though he would say that to the entire band, he would be looking pointedly at Shuichi. With his ever present magnum, he would threaten Shuichi “to write breathtakingly beautiful tear jerker” songs. How K thought all the stress, pressure and endless threats were supposed to work was beyond him.

Whatever.

Then there was Tohma. Whenever something happened that he was not particularly happy with, all blame was placed on Shuichi, whether he had a hand in the deed or not. Shuichi “should have known better”. Shuichi “should have come to see” him before things got too out of hand. Shuichi should have done this. Shuichi should have done that.

Hate was not a word to be used lightly, but it was the only word to describe how Shuichi knew Tohma felt about him. He had always known that his brother-in-law despised him, but he had no idea that he would go this far. He understood, really he did. Tohma had a company to run. Every minute that their CD was delayed was more money lost. That did not mean that he had to like it any better though.

Truthfully, this might just be a good thing. Their contract with NG Productions was set to expire this fall, about the same time Tohma wanted Back to Zero released. Though that was definitely something he and the guys still had to talk about. Should they try to renegotiate? Or should they just pack their bags and relocate out of this dust bowl to greener pastures? What would happen if they were at odds as what to do? And what about Eiri? Tohma was his sister’s husband after all. The last thing Shuichi wanted was to be the cause of any more dissension between them. Until the three of them could deal with that issue, he was just glad to have this opportunity to make things up to all those who were inconvenienced because of his foolish mistake.

When he came into the studio this morning to place the final changes on the couple of songs he had on the Who Is It soundtrack, being told something as outrageous as this had not been in the forefront of his mind. Though, it was not as if he had not seen this coming. Eiri had warned him.

So, what did he think? That was the five million yen dollar question. As much as he detested the idea, he supposed they should finish the album, whether he could lay down the vocals for the last couple or songs or not. A fleeting thought to steal the master tape of what they had accomplished so far and lose it in some long forgotten closet somewhere deep within the lowest depths of NG Productions entered his mind. He shook those wicked thoughts aside. Unfortunately, as entertaining as the idea was, he was someone who always finished what he set out to do.

“There’s what? Three songs left?” Hiro asked.

Shuichi let his head loll to the side as he studied his best friend who was sitting several seats down from Suguru.

Suguru nodded. “‘Something‘s Going On’, ‘In the Dark and’ and ‘Tears’.”

Sighing lightly, Shuichi returned his attention back to the ceiling. Those were actually the only songs he liked on the entire fifteen track CD.

He didn’t see anything wrong with them at least attempting to finish the album. Of course, Dr. Takata and Dr. Koto would have to give their consent. Seeing as they had allowed him to come in today so that he could work on the songs for the soundtrack, he did not see the problem with them agreeing to allow him to stay for a few more hours. Seeing K was not here today (that he was aware of) and Sakano was off running errands for “the Sacho” and Tohma was off doing some interviews and photo shoots for Nittle Grasper, they should be able to get a lot done (if they did not kill each other first). It’s funny how that worked. What they could not finish by the deadline he knew Eiri would impose (if he actually agreed to let him stay), Hiro and Suguru would just have to come up with something.

Dropping his hands, Shuichi pushed the chair back and stood up. “Give me a sec to call Eiri,” he said as he crossed the conference room towards the door. Something was telling him that he would have to pull a rabbit out of his ass if he wanted Eiri to give him permission to stay at the studio for a couple more hours though.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	38. A Fated Meeting with Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi meets his neighbors and finds that they have a lot in common.

**Chapter 38: A Fated Meeting with Torture**

Pushing open the glass enclosed front door to the building, Shuichi strode down the narrow, but brightly lit corridor towards the elevator. The doors slid open when he pushed the call button. Stepping into the car, he pushed the button for his floor. Leaning against the back of the car, he watched as the doors slid shut. The elevator jostled slightly as it began to rise. Tipping his head back, he stared with unseeing eyes at the ceiling.

His relationship with the guys was deteriorating at a rapid pace. It was something he has known for quite some time, but it became painfully obvious when they were in the studio last week completing Back to Zero. Recording the vocals for the final three songs was finished in record time and that fact had set Suguru off.

_“If you were this professional all the time, we would’ve finished Back to Zero years ago!”_

In the end, he’d ended up walking out on them. He hasn’t talked to either of them since.

He and Suguru have never really been close. You could not even really call them friends. The two of them were more like acquaintances. He was a friend of a friend of a friend. Even after five years being in the same band together, the nature of their relationship has not changed. More often than not, it seemed as if they were at each other’s throats.

On the other hand, somewhere over the years, he and Hiro grew apart. They’ve been friends since--well, he could not remember specifically when or how the two of them met, but it felt as if they have been friends forever. He knew that they had not gone to the same elementary school. Hiro had moved into the neighborhood sometime after Yoshio and his family were forced to relocate after his father was transferred. He was almost positive they met sometime in junior high, but for the life of him, he could not remember anything more than that. He wondered if that was normal.

They used to be “joined at hip”, as his mother always said. You would never see one without the other. In those rare moments when they were not together, he could remember people were always questioning if they’d had “a lover’s quarrel”. Nowadays, what was once a constant part of his day was now something of a rarity. Even when they were in the studio, they never really had the chance to sit down and talk about random things as they used to.

He could try telling himself all he wanted that this sort of thing was natural. It happens. He knew that, but it did not stop his heart from aching when he thought of how far apart the two of them had drifted. What made it worse was the knowledge that he could not be sure if the waning of their friendship was something that would have happened naturally anyway or if it was due to the choices he made over the years.

Now it seemed as if Hiro had more in common with Suguru than with him. He was not sure how he felt about that. Did it make him jealous to think about Suguru standing where he had been not too long ago? Yes. Yes it did.

But…

They were not those eighteen-year-old high school students without a care in the world anymore. Or at least, he wasn’t. He had a family now. He had husband who absolutely worshipped the ground he walked on (though he would never admit it) and a beautiful daughter. He and Eiri were even talking about possibly expanding their little family.

Oo! What he would not give to hear the pitter patter of little feet running through the house again! Having children changed everything. You could no longer stay out clubbing or bar hopping until three o’clock in the morning and then sleep in until noon.

He and Hiro could not be any different, but it was not just their lifestyles that have undergone drastic changes over the years. The three members that made up the internationally renowned pop band Bad Luck could not have been more different when it came to their musical interests.

Hiroshi Nakano considered himself chiefly a blues-rock fan. He preferred artists such as The Allman Brothers Band, Eric Claption, and Jimi Hendrix, Led Zepplin, AC/DC, Bad Company, BB King, Stevie Ray Vaughn, ZZ Top and the like.

Suguru Fujisaki was a jazz fan. He was into artists such as Duke Ellington, Count Baise, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Louise Armstrong and Cab Calloway and the like. Since jazz was said to have roots in blues, it was almost natural that the young keyboardist’s interests overlapped with that of Hiro.

On the other hand, Shuichi’s interest could not have been more different from that of his band mates. The type of music Hiro and Suguru had a growing interest in tended to put him to sleep. He was not sure why. Maybe it had to do with their mellow and laid-back sound. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that it was the same kind of music Eiri listened to during long car rides. Yes, he would admit that there might be one or two songs that he liked, but in the end, what it came down to was that he preferred new wave, nu metal, freestyle, Eurodance and hip-hop. All of which were entirely different from what his band mates liked and from what Bad Luck was known for.

Once, their individual preferences’ had been their biggest asset. They had been able to meld them together to create one hit song after another, but now it was at the core of their dispute. Hiro and Suguru wanted them to go in one direction, while he wanted to head in a completely different one. This was why he recorded those two songs for the movie soundtrack as a solo artist without the backing of Bad Luck; as if the press was not already having a field day about the divide within the band, once this fact come out, it was just going to add more fuel to the fire and truthfully, he was sick and tired of all the fighting and all the lying. He just wanted it to end one way or another.

If his boss, Tohma Seguchi, was not Eiri’s brother-in-law…

Then what? Did it really make a difference? It did not seem to matter to Tohma either way. He wished more than anything that they could be friends, but as things stood, it did not seem as if that was going to happen any time soon. In the end, though, as much as he used to and still did admire and idolized the man, he could care less what Tohma thought of him. He just did not like placing Eiri in the middle of this constant tug of war.

With Bad Luck’s contract set to expire in a matter of weeks, Shuichi was not sure what to expect. It had not been that long ago when he would have said with absolute certainty that Bad Luck would renew their contract with NG Productions and everything would continue as it had, but now he was not sure that Tohma would offer them a new contract. He was not certain how he felt about that. If things between him and the guys did not change, then it did not matter whether or not they were offered a new contact with NG Productions.

As the elevator rose, Shuichi pulled at his hair as his frustration grew. He just did not know what to do! Even though he had talked things over with Eiri…

_Eiri turned his gaze away from the sight of Tokyo at the whispered voice of his husband. “Do what you want.” Whatever stops those tears and brings out that contagious smile._

_“But…”_

_Pushing out of the armchair, Eiri crossed the room to sit besides Shuichi on the sofa. He took Shuichi’s tear logged face gently in his hands. “I hate to see you like this. You know that.” He swept at a stray tear with his thumb. His heart ached whenever he saw his baka struggling like this. Because there was nothing he could do, it just made him feel twice as bad._

_Shuichi sniffled._

_“Do what you must.”_

_“Really?”_

_Eiri nodded. “Yes.” He brushed their lips together. “Sometimes you have to be a little selfish.”_

_Shuichi scrubbed at his wet face. “And you won’t hate me?”_

_Eiri shook his head in denial. “Never.” Reaching out, he gently ran the back of his hand up Shuichi’s cheek. “I could never hate you.”_

…, he was still in the dark as to what he should do. Talking about something and acting on that something were two completely different things. This and that.

Eiri claimed that he would support him no matter what he decided, but with him and Tohma already at odds over Eiri‘s involvement with him, he did not want to do anything that would put any more strain on what remained of Eiri and Tohma’s relationship.

When the elevator jolted to a stop, he pushed away from the back wall. As the doors slid open, a ding echoed down the silent, empty hallways. Shuichi sighed heavily as he stepped off the elevator. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys as he trooped down the long, deserted hall towards his studio.

After Eiri proposed, he finally let go of the closet sized studio apartment that he’d had ever since he graduated from high school. It had been an emotional decision that still sent him into tears when he thought about it. Of course, Eiri called him an idiot for being so emotionally attached to that “shit hole of an apartment” that he’d barely ever used.

He spent the better part of that summer scrubbing it down, sanitizing it, and trying to make it habitable again. If the health department had been called in, they would have had it condemned. That was how bad its state had become. A thick layer of dust had covered everything. Grime so thick that he had needed to steal Eiri’s scraper out of the car in order to get it off had coated the windows (he ended up buying a replacement for him). Mildew and mold had taken over the refrigerator and bathroom, where a pipe had burst sometime during the winter. How nobody had noticed, Shuichi was not sure. He had nobody to blame but himself unfortunately. And of course Eiri had absolutely refused to help. Shuichi could not blame the man for bailing. It would have been more productive to just let the apartment go up in flames. If he had not been afraid that they would go to the tabloids, he would have just paid the landlord generously to hire professional cleaners or he could have done so himself, but the last thing he needed was to see his abandoned, garbage heap of an apartment on the six o’clock news.

Shortly after the loss of his apartment, a new addition to their family arrived in the form of their daughter Sayo, which had left him a bind since his home office/studio had to be turned into Sayo’s bedroom. That was when Eiri suggested he just rent some studio space somewhere.

_“And try not to turn this one into a squalor’s nest otherwise I’m calling the Health Minister myself,”_ Eiri had threatened.

The Avan Minami-Aoyama Studios in Minato-ku, which were not too far from where he resided in Chiyoda, catered to those individuals who were looking for some storage space, office space, or a studio in which to work from. Each studio was soundproof and had concrete flooring. Some had a toilet and bathroom. Others had a toilet, bathroom as well as a kitchen. Several even had bedrooms. His had a toilet, bathroom, and kitchen as well as a balcony with a small private Zen garden and air conditioning.

To date, he has met several other people who rented space in the building, from a defense attorney who was rumored to be on the payroll of some Yakuza to a student in art school. While he has never met any of his neighbors as of yet, he had been told by the landlord that there was a group of kids across the hall who rented the space out as a practice studio for their band. He wondered what type of music they played and if they were any good.

A sound off to his left caught Shuichi’s attention just as he was about to slip his key into the lock. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed that the door to the studio across the hall was slightly ajar. A slow sound was drifting out into the hall. Curious, he fixed the strap of his messenger bag that was slipping off his shoulder and fisted his keys. The carpet muffled his footsteps as he crossed the hall.

He pushed open the door and stuck his head in. A man who appeared not much older than he with electric blue hair sitting barefoot on a stool in the center of the room caught his attention. Then he spotted the guitar he was strumming.

“Holy shit,” he cried, bursting unannounced into the studio.

Startled, the man jumped to his feet. The stool he had been sitting tipped over and clattered to the floor. “Wha-? Who are-?”

Instead of answering, Shuichi slipped easily out of his sneakers and continued his voyage across the studio towards the man. “Is that the limited edition HR Giger?” he asked, his eyes glued to the electric guitar.

“Uh, yeah, it is,” the befuddled man stuttered.

“Sweet!” Shuichi slipped the strap of his bag over his head and set it down. Grabbing the guitar from the all too willing man, he ran his hands over the sleek, flawless finish. “Ya know that HR Giger guy who designed this is responsible for the alien designs in the first Alien movie?” Eiri loved that movie and had forced him to watch it once. It was one of the scariest movies he had ever watched. He’d had nightmares for a month after watching the scene where the alien burst through the guy’s chest. Of course, Eiri called him a wimp.

“Uh…Yeah. You, uh, play?”

Shuichi snorted. “Me? Yeah, right. I’ll stick to the piano thank you very much, but Hiro does. He tried teaching me once, but it was a disaster.” He laughed at the memory. “Oh man! Is he going to flip! He really wanted one, but somehow someone screwed up his order and by the time he was able to straighten things out they’d been sold out. But wow! It truly is a beauty. Wizard II neck-thru. 5-piece maple and walnut neck. Mahogany body. Twenty-four jumbo frets. Rosewood fingerboard. Shark tooth inlays…”

The man was astonished. “For someone who doesn’t play, you sure know a lot.”

Blushing, Shuichi shrugged and handed the man back his guitar. “Yeah, well, Hiro was obsessed with getting his hands on one no matter what. He went on endlessly about it.”

He glanced quickly around the studio. It was about half the size as his own and did not seem to have any of the amenities. His roaming gaze caught sight of a textured black sunburst PHX high-end acoustic drum set with the word “Torture” etched into the face of the bass drum. The same PSR1500, PSR3000 and YPT-310 keyboard that he had were arranged perpendicular to one another. Two guitars rested in their stands up against the far wall. On the wall opposite was an empty stand besides a V shaped white guitar-like instrument that had a black tribal pattern across the face.

“What the hell is that?” he asked blinking in confusion at the strange contraption. He had never seen anything like it before in his life.

“Huh?” The man followed Shuichi’s finger. A wide grin crossed his face. “Oh, hey.” He crossed the studio and set his HR Giger guitar in it’s stand. “This, my friend, is the Gibson Limited Edition Tribal V guitar.”

“It’s a guitar?”

“Not just any guitar. It is one of the ultimate guitars. Solid body electric guitar with mahogany body and neck, ebony fingerboard, Kahler vibrato-”

“And there he goes,” announced an unexpected voice from behind him.

Startled, Shuichi spun around. Before him were who he assumed were the owners of the remaining instruments. The two girls appeared to be twins. One was slightly taller than the other and had black hair the color of raven’s feathers interwoven with white streaks that even though was done up in braids was down to her ass. Her sister’s chestnut brown hair had streaks of hi-octane orange, a color Shuichi knew glowed under black light. She was the one who stepped forward and offered her hand. Shuichi took it tentatively.

“Hi! I’m Taira,” she introduced. “This is my sister Yuki. The guy was the atomic pink hair in his eyes is Manabu.”

It was another color that glowed under black light. He wondered if that was for their stage show?

Not only did Manabu have almost the same color hair as him, but he was tall, maybe as tall as Eiri and thin as a chopstick.

“And the guy with the bright as fuck yellow hair is Kita.”

“Hey,” Kita greeted in a deep deadpanned voice.

Kita was shorter than Manabu, but taller than him. Shuichi put him at about Hiro’s height, maybe an inch or two shorter.

“Hi. Nice to meet you. Sorry to barge in like this, but I noticed your door was open and when I came to check to see if maybe something was wrong, maybe a burglar had gotten in or something, I saw this guy with the HR Giger guitar and I just sorta--Uhm.” He faltered and blushed when Taira giggled. He was rambling again. That was when he realized that he had yet to introduce himself. “Oh! I’m-”

“Shuichi Shindou,” Kita interrupted in that same dead voice.

Shuichi blinked. He cocked his head to the side cutely. “Oh! You know I am, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?” Yuki giggled.

Knowing all too well what she was implying, Shuichi blushed.

“Hey! What about me?” spoke up a hurt sounding voice from behind him.

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder. It was the man who he had burst in on.

“What about you?” Taira asked the man. She stuck her hip out and gave her fellow band mate a once over.

“You’re not going to introduce me?”

“Why would I?”

The man sighed sadly with a shake of his head. “Always the odd man out,” he pouted.

The others scoffed at the melodrama.

He straightened and grinned at Shuichi. “I’m Ishi Fuji,” he introduced, holding his hand out.

Shuichi took his hand. “Nice to met you, Fuji and I’m sorry about earlier. Eiri‘s always yelling at me about doing stuff like that.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

Fuji brushed the apology aside. “Naw! Don’t worry bout it. I was surprised, but…” He shrugged. Turning towards his band mates, he asked, “You get the coffee or what?”

Taira rolled her eyes. “No, we went all the way to Spot just for the hell of it.”

As the five of them argued over who got what and whether there was cream and sugar, Shuichi watched them with a wistful nostalgic smile. This was nice. Even when they weren’t fighting, the members of Bad Luck had never acted like these guys. He had to admit that he was a little jealous.

“Hey, you got time?” Taira asked him suddenly. She lifted the lid of her coffee cup and after blowing on it gently in a futile effort to cool the steaming brown liquid off, took a tentative sip.

He turned towards her. “I guess. Why?”

“Do you think you can take a listen to some of our stuff? Tell us what you think?” Her dark eyes were sparkling in expectation.

This was a first. He had never had someone ask him something like this before. “Sure,” he shrugged. He did not see why not. Eiri had an interview for Book TV and then he had to go to Borders for a book singing that Shuichi was sure would last until early evening at the earliest. With Sayo at his parents place, he had the whole day to himself.

“Awesome!” Taira and her twin sister squealed in delight.

“Sweet! Really? Thanks man!” Fuji exclaimed, slapping him on the back.

All of them started talking excitably at once. Shuichi could not help but giggle. The members of Torture scrambled to their instruments and soon the sounds of guitars being tuned and keyboards and drums being warmed up filled the air.

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The hair colors are real, including the parts about them glowing in the dark. Also, I know nothing about instruments. I found out the info on several websites: http://www.sweetwater.com, http://yamaha.com, and http://www.zzounds.com.


	39. In the Heat of the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All couple’s fight. Shuichi Shindou and Eiri Yuki Uesugi are no different.

**Chapter 39: In the Heat of the Moment**

“Fuck you asshole! This’s all your fault!”

“My fault?!”

“Yes! Your! Fault!”

“You little bitch! You have some nerve placing the blame on me!”

“Oh! So now it’s my fault?!”

“Damn straight it is! I sure as hell had nothing to do with it!”

“Ha!”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“What the fuck do you think?!”

“Hey! Get your ass back here! I’m not through with you!”

“But I am through with you!” Shuichi twirled about on his heel and started out of the kitchen, determined to get as far away as humanly possible from his husband before he said and/or did something they would both later regret, but a tight grip took hold of his upper arm halted his movements before he could take more than a handful of steps. “Get your hands off of me,” he hissed. He tugged futilely against the vise-like grip.

“That’s not what you said at the party,” Eiri said slyly.

His face as red as a boiled lobster, Shuichi stuttered in embarrassment.

“That’s…?” Eiri prompted him.

His embarrassment quickly forgotten, Shuichi‘s face twisted into a snarl. “Drop dead asshole!”

The sly smirk vanished. Eiri’s face-hardened in anger.

Shuichi yelped as he was twirled around and then tossed like a worthless piece of baggage up against the kitchen wall. The solid impact pushed the air out of his lungs. Pain laced his backside.

Grabbing Shuichi’s hands, Eiri pinned them above Shuichi’s head. Pressing his face to Shuichi’s, he whispered into his husband‘s ear. “You ever speak to me like that again and I swear to God, I will fucking kill you.”

Fear froze the blood in his veins. It sucked the breathe from his lungs. He stared with wide unseeing eyes passed Eiri’s shoulder at the cherry cabinets. “Y-you can’t scare me,” Shuichi stuttered. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Eiri lifted his free hand and wrapped it around Shuichi’s long slender neck. His middle finger rested lightly on the discoloration that resided on the side of Shuichi’s neck. He tightened his grip momentarily; just enough to let the singer know he was dead serious, before letting him go.

His legs unable to hold him, Shuichi slid down the cold wall to land on the floor. It was unwise to take Eiri lightly. What he said, he meant. Shuichi has been with the writer long enough to know that with absolute certainty.

Eiri backed up and strode with long strides out of the kitchen.

Somewhere in the house, a door slammed shut.

Panting heavily, Shuichi stared unseeingly across the kitchen. Damn Eiri and his insatiable libido. That was the last time he went with him anywhere.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Confused? Here it is in a nutshell: Eiri and Shuichi went to a party, Shuichi did something to get Eiri a little "hot under the collar", things got a little hot and heavy and the fact that they were not in the privacy of their own home was quickly forgotten. Basically, their anger stems from embarrassment.


	40. Whipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiri is a little stressed due to a looming deadline and Shuichi knows just what button to push. Of course, Eiri can never stay mad at Shuichi for long because they both know that Shuichi has Eiri wrapped around his little finger.

**Chapter 40: Whipped**

“Hey, Eiri?”

The sound of his husband’s voice broke into Eiri’s thoughts. The insistent clacking as his fingers flew over the keys came to a halt. Silence reigned in the study. He scowled, perturbed at being interrupted when he was trying to work, and waited for Shuichi to continue. When Shuichi remained silent, though, Eiri had to wonder if he was starting to lose it. Living with the lithe baka for as long as he has, it would come as no surprise.

His hands still over the keyboard of his computer, he sat back in his chair and swiveled his head around.

Shuichi was lounging on his stomach with his feet making patterns in the air. His chin was resting in his cupped hand. His vividly violet eyes scanned the screen of his laptop as his other hand moved over the scroll button. Whatever his pink haired idiot was doing seemed to have captivated him. Must have something to do with Nittle Grasper. The pop/rock band was one of the only things that could keep Shuichi so quiet and so still for so long. Usually he acted as if he had ants in his pants.

There was no indication from Shuichi that he had ever said anything.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Eiri turned back toward his computer. Briefly closing his eyes, he tried to regain his train of thought. It returned swiftly. The rapid click-clack of the keyboard filled the silence once again.

“Eiri?”

With the scowl reappearing, Eiri growled lightly. He should have known. “What?” he snapped. “What the hell do you want?” He twirled his chair around to face Shuichi.

Shuichi blinked, taken a back by the harsh tone. “Jeeze. Attitude much? What the hell crawled up your ass and died?”

Eiri narrowed his gaze. The temperature in the room dropped dramatically.

Acting as if he had not just stepped over that very thin line, Shuichi gathered his things and stood. “If you’re going to be such an ass then forget it.” With a toss of his head, he marched out of the study. “Jerk,” he muttered. He made sure to slam the door harder than was necessary behind him.

A vein throbbed dangerous in Eiri’s forehead. The damned brat. Sometimes, he swore that Shuichi was secretly a woman moonlighting as a man. How else could you account for the PMS-like multiple personality disorder?

Honestly.

Glad for the quiet, he turned back to his computer. Setting his hands into position on the keyboard, his gaze glazed over as they took in the screen before him.

How dare the brat turn the tables around and try to make him into the bad guy. Shuichi was the one that had been bothering him while he was trying to write. Shuichi was the one that had called his name (twice mind you) without bothering to say what he wanted. Did he just enjoy the sound of his name or something? If that was the case, he could say it to his heart’s content somewhere far away from him--like at the North Pole or the moon. No matter how often he was scolded for his incompetence, Shuichi never seemed to get it. Unless it was an emergency, he needed to be left alone when he was writing. Was that too hard to comprehend?

Damned brat.

No, Shuichi was the antagonist this time. Not him. He did nothing wrong. Anybody in his shoes would have done the same thing. If someone called your name countless times while you were trying to meet a deadline, one that seemed to arrive sooner and sooner each time, but refused to say anything more than your name, you would snap too. He was like a toddler who kept asking “why” to everything that comes out of your mouth. Three words described someone like Shuichi who just could not comprehend his own stupidity: a, nnoy, ing.

The silence seemed to grow heavy. It became suffocating.

His eye twitched.

“Dammit all to hell,” he hissed.

Pushing away from his desk, he marched out of the study and went in search of his baka. The brat had him wrapped around his little finger and they both knew it.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: BTW, on a side note, I based the turmoil within the band on two real life bands from the 80’s. One band broke up soon after the lead singer agreed they’d do a song for a movie (both the movie and the song ended up being huge hits), but the guys in the band did not like the song because according to them it “wasn’t their sound”. Another band decided to put out a side project without telling their lead singer who decided to do the same thing. Only his solo CD became a huge hit. The band was pissed. Then not long later, the band fired their lead singer after he took ill. True stories.


	41. Eiri no Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiri is starting a new novel and Shuichi has some questions about his reference material.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions some Japanese games

**Chapter 41: Eiri no Go**

Dear God.

Has it only been six weeks since Shuichi was ordered by his primary care physician, Dr. Koto, as well as Dr. Takata to take mandatory sick leave? He sighed heavily and massaged his aching temples as a headache slammed his brain around inside his skull. It felt as if a tennis match was being played inside of his head. He just had to think positive. It was not “only six weeks have passed”, but more like “six weeks have passed”. With six down, there was only six more to go…he hoped. It was entirely possible that Shuichi’s doctors might force him to stay home for a little while longer. He hoped to hell that that was not the case. On the other hand, his doctor’s might give him the green light to head back to work earlier than was planned. Now that was something worth smiling for.

“Hey, Eiri?”

Oh. My. Freaking. God. He was so sick and tired of hearing “Hey, Eiri” being screamed through the condominium. It was beginning to grow increasingly annoying, but what wasn’t irritating as all hell now that he was being forced to spend every single minute of every single day with the pink haired singer. He was this close to legally changing his name and not informing his husband of said change. That way when Shuichi called his name, he had no choice but to ignore him. Nice. He had to admit, though, when Shuichi called out his name at night, and sometimes in the middle of the day, he sure as hell did not mind then. Not one bit.

“Is this your book?”

Eiri glanced over his shoulder and spied Shuichi standing in the door of the study with a thick, soft covered, red book in his hand. There was black writing along the spine. “Yeah, where was it?” He had been wondering where in the hell it had disappeared to.

“In the living room under the TV.”

How in the world had it gotten there? He wondered if Sayo had anything to do with that. Possibly. She was just like her mama after all; touching things that did not belong to her without even bothering to think of the consequences.

“The Ins and Outs of Go,” Shuichi read as he crossed the study. “Go? As in that game Go?”

“The one and same,” Eiri said as he turned back to the outline he was trying to put together for his next novel. The pen he was holding flew over the sheet of paper in the spiral bound notebook before him.

“Why are you reading something like this for?” Instead of handing the book over, Shuichi plopped down onto the sofa behind Eiri and began flipping through the book.

“Research.”

“Research?” Shuichi looked confused. “Oh! For a new novel?” He sounded excited.

“Yeah.”

“Wow! That is so cool! Are you going to write something like _Hikaru no Go_?”

Eiri frowned. The pen he was holding paused mid-character. “What?”

“ _Hikaru no Go_. Ya know the manga series that was turned into an anime?”

“Never heard of it,” Eiri said bluntly, as he returned to his drafting.

Shuichi‘s head snapped up. His eyes grew wide. He flew upright. “What?!” He jumped to his feet.

Eiri winced. And now that he was half-deaf in that ear…

“Eiri! That’s…! That’s…!”

“That’s what?”

“Scandalous!”

Of course it was. What else would it be? Eiri heaved a tired sigh.

“Sacrilegious! Eiri, how can you be writing a story about Go when you’ve never heard of this coming of age tale?”

Eiri sighed and mumbled, “Easily” under his breath.

“C’mon. You must have heard about it! It spawned an international Go--frenzy!”

“Whatever.”

“No. Not ‘whatever’. It’s an awesome show, Eiri. You really must watch it sometime.”

Not in this lifetime.

“It’s about this kid named Hikaru who finds a spirit of this Go master and teacher named Sai trapped in an old Go board of his grandfather’s and-”

“Yeah, sounds interesting,” Eiri said, quickly intervening. He really did not need a play by play of some stupid anime that he had no interest whatsoever in.

“Eiri,” Shuichi scolded.

“Shuichi,” Eiri returned in the same dead voice he has been using since the conversation began.

Shuichi sighed. “You…”

“I?”

“…Are completely hopeless.”

“So I’ve been told,” Eiri shot back.

With another sigh, Shuichi flopped back into the sofa bonelessly. He stared up at Eiri’s back for several silent moments before becoming quickly bored and held out the book before him. He flipped open the front cover. “Wow!”

“Now what?”

“This Akama Eguchi guy has written a lot of books.”

“That’s what writers do.”

“Yeah, but all this guy has written about has been games. There’re books about Renji, Shogi, both sugoroku games, The Difference Between Bag and Kuramasu, Cho-Han, How to Win at Pachinko Every Time, Darumason go Koronda, Gomoku, Irensei, Koi-Koi, chess, Reversi…(1)” Shuichi frowned. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Eiri asked in a bored tone.

“Reversi.”

“Another name for Othello.”

“Huh?”

Eiri sighed.

“What is it?”

“…A game.”

“Obviously,” Shuichi replied, “but what kind of game?”

Why was it that when he was speaking with Shuichi he felt as if he were speaking to a child?

“Eiri. C’mon! Tell me, Eiri! Eiri!”

That vein throbbed dangerously in Eiri’s forehead. The sound of his baka’s voice was beginning to drive him up the wall.

“Eiri!”

Something in him snapped. “Look it up,” he bit.

Shuichi jumped with a yelp at the harsh tone. The book slipped out of his grasp. It bounced off the edge of the sofa and tumbled to the floor. Getting hold of himself, he bent over to retrieve the book, saying, “You don’t have to snap my head off, Eiri. If you didn’t know, then you just should’ve said so.”

Eiri sighed. This headache was killing him.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Find out about these games at wikipedia.


	42. The Impertinence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An online friend asks Maiko a personal question

* * *

 

**Chapter 42: The Impertinence**

“What time did you say Gina was coming to pick you up?” Shuichi asked from the kitchen.

“Around eight,” Maiko answered her older brother from the living room without taking her eyes from the monitor of her laptop. “‘Then what makes you say that you’re bi?’” she read silently. A scowl twisted her features that were so like her brother’s people mistook them for twins. Her mouth was set in a grim line.

“What?”

Startled, Maiko jumped at the sound of her brother’s voice. “Thanks,” she said, taking the black lacquered teacup he was holding out to her. The character “koi” was emblazoned on the side of the handled mug in bright, bold red. “Nothing. Talking to myself.” She brought the mug to her lips. The steam rising from the tea engulfed her face. Blowing on it in an effort to cool it down so she didn‘t singe her tongue, she then took a sip.

Shuichi lowered himself onto the sofa behind her and took a sip of his tea. His mug was identical to the one her sister was using, except for one small detail. Instead of “koi”, the kanji character “hito” was emblazoned on the side of the mug in bold red. “Getting any answers?” he teased.

“Ha. Ha,” Maiko said dryly.

Shuichi snickered.

“What kind of tea is this?” she asked, gazing hypnotically into the liquid.

“Uhm.” Shuichi scratched his head. “Masala chai I think.”

Maiko nodded. “It’s good.”

“Isn’t it?”

Grabbing a coaster from the center of the coffee table, Maiko set her mug on the black cotton square their mother had personally handmade for Shuichi and Eiri. Turning back towards her laptop, she used the scroll button to move the cursor and hit the reply button. Settling her fingers over the keyboard, her fingers flew over the keys. “You don’t have to sleep with someone to be attracted to them. Though it’s none of your business, I haven’t slept with anyone, men or women. Not all of us are ruled by our libidos.” Her short but to the point message finished, she clicked the send button. Grabbing her mug, she sat back and took a sip of her tea. Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip around the mug. The nerve of that bastard. Who they hell did he think he was? “I knew I should’ve answered,” she muttered angrily.

As Shuichi took another sip of his tea, his eyes landed on the screen of his sister’s laptop. “Who’s that?” he inquired.

Pulled out of her thoughts of murder, Maiko tipped her head back to gaze at her brother upside down. “What?”

Shuichi lifted his chin at the image on the screen. It was a picture of a man who was clearly not of Japanese descent. The man appeared to be standing at a counter top in front of rather large mirror with a camera in his hand.

Dropping her head back down, she followed her brother’s line of sight to her laptop. Her dark brown eyes that she had inherited from her father landed on the picture her brother was indicating. She scowled. “Terry.” The name out as a curse.

Shuichi cocked an eyebrow. “And who is he?”

Maiko rolled her eyes at her brother’s tone. “Some dude I’ve been communicating with online.”

“Hm.” Shuichi settled back on the sofa with the mug warmed from the tea hugged between his hands.

Her frustration getting the better of her, she spun around. “Ya know what that asshole said?” she barked.

Shuichi was not sure what to think of his baby sister communicating with some strange guy from halfway around the world, but the blatant anger that twisted her beautiful features and hardened her voice as she spoke about him had his lips twitching. He hid his smirk behind his mug. His face hardened once again. If that asshole did something to hurt her, he swore by all that was Holy that he would hunt the bastard down to the ends of the world. “What?”

“He asked me if I’d ever slept with a woman before.”

Shuichi’s eye twitched. He was not sure he wanted to know about his baby sister’s sex life. The less he knew the better.

“Of course, I haven’t so I said no.”

Shuichi blinked. “Wait. What? You and Gina haven’t…?”

Maiko tossed her brother a disgusted scowl. “Please! What do you take me for? We’ve only been together a couple of months.”

“So?”

“So?” She scoffed. “Big brother…”

“What?”

“Just because you being the slut that you are slept with Mr. Yuki after knowing him one day-”

“Hey! I resent that! It was more like a week.”

Maiko cocked an eyebrow.

His face a blaze with embarrassment, Shuichi slouched down on the sofa and took a sip of his tea.

“Yeah, I did not need to know that.” Maiko turned her back to her brother and settled back against the front of the sofa. “Anyway, I wrote back saying I haven’t slept with a woman before and he answered back asking how I knew that I was bi then. Jerk,” she added.

“…Oh. Kay.” Shuichi was not sure what to think about that. Apparently, the guy had insulted her. Though, he wondered if that was his intent. Since he had not read the messages she received from this Terry guy, he could not say for sure either way.

A buzzing sound caught their attention.

Maiko reached for her phone that was in the process of dancing towards the edge of the table. She flipped it open and read the text message. “Gina’s here.”

“Cool. Invite her up,” he suggested.

Maiko studied her brother over her shoulder through narrowed eyes. “What are you up to?”

Shuichi looked down at her innocently. “Nothing.”

“Uh huh.” Using the table as leverage, she pushed to her feet and crossed the condominium to the front door to go meet her girlfriend. “You’d better behave yourself,” she warned.

“Always.”

She glanced over her shoulder at her brother silently for several long moments.

Shuichi grinned.

Maiko snorted. She muttered, “Whatever,” as she slid out of her slippers. “By the way,” she continued as she stepped into a pair of low-heeled boots.

“Yeah?”

Maiko zipped her boots up. Straightening, she questioned, “Is that Mr. Yuki’s teacup I‘m using?”

“What? Oh, yeah! Aren’t they cute?”

Maiko rolled her eyes. “Nauseatingly.”

Shuichi giggled.

“I’ll be right back,” she called as she stepped out into the hall.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you’re wondering about the teacups, the kanji “koi” and “hito” are the characters that make up “koibito”. They’re supposed to be a matching set.


	43. The Problem with "Dear Myself"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bored Eiri reads one of Shuichi’s yaoi mangas.

* * *

 

**Chapter 43: The Problem with _Dear Myself_**

Eiri scoffed. “What a fucked up fruit loop,” he announced as he finished reading one of his husband‘s yaoi mangas. He tossed the soft cover graphic novel aside carelessly. That had been a serious waste of his time. He could write better trash in his sleep. Dropping his head back, he stretched his arms out on either side of him along the top of the sofa and stared up at the white ceiling.

“Eiri?”

Letting his head fall to the side, Eiri watched his baka lover step out of the short hall that led to the master bedroom suite.

Shuichi let his searching gaze roam about the condominium as he crossed towards him. “Have you seen my manga?”

“Which one?”

“Dear-Oh,” he interrupted himself as he spotted it on the coffee table. “Here it is. I’ve been looking all over for it.” He picked it up. “But what’s it doing out here?” He frowned as he studied the cover. His gaze swept to Eiri. “Were you reading it?”

“I was bored.” Eiri laced his hands behind his head. He stretched his legs out before him.

Shuichi sat sideways on the sofa besides him. “What you think?” he asked, cocking his head to the side cutely.

Clearing his throat, Eiri deliberately looked away to gaze out the sliding glass windows opposite him as he tried to ignore the heat that enveloped his cheeks. “That Daigo is a psychotic moron who should be in the loony bin,” he confessed. Maybe it was the influence of being in the States too long, but he felt Daigo was the story’s antagonist and that Hirofumi guy had a backbone made of Jell-o.

Shuichi scoffed. “You just don’t get it.” He turned his back on Eiri. Pulling his feet underneath him, he settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa and opening the manga, started to read it.

“What’s there to get?” Eiri bit. His head snapped around. “It’s obvious that he’s mentally disturbed and has never received adequate help. Everyone around him baby’s him and pampers him and feeds into his delusions! He just gets even worse in World’s End!”

Taken by surprise, Shuichi blinked. Shocked, he closed the manga and turned towards Eiri. “You read it?”

“Whether I have or not is not the point!” he yelled angrily to cover the immense embarrassment he felt at having been caught reading such girlie trash.

Shuichi frowned. He hadn’t done nothing to warrant this hissy fit. “Then what is?” he demanded.

Eiri ripped the manga out of Shuichi’s hands. “Have you even read this damn thing?”

“Of course I have!”

“Oh, so you think what Daigo does to Hirofumi is acceptable?”

“Well…”

Eiri tossed him back the manga.

With a yelp, Shuichi caught it a mere hairsbreadth from his face. He scowled angrily.

“Sure the sex is great, but there’s more to a relationship then fucking.” Eiri started counting on his fingers. “He refuses to let Hirofumi get a job.”

“Because Daigo says he’ll provide for Hirofumi,” Shuichi tried to clarify.

“Even though Hirofumi doesn’t want that?” Eiri shot back.

Shuichi was struck momentarily blind by the truthfulness behind that statement. He wracked his brain for a comeback. “Well, yeah, but…Hirofumi said himself it was his male pride that wouldn‘t allow him to except Daigo providing for him, right?”

Eiri had to give Shuichi that. He nodded. “True, but he also said that being forced to remain at home twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five was driving him insane, right? Not only is he bored out of his mind, but he’s starting to feel discontent and smothered. So it‘s no wonder that he very nearly has an affair with that chick he knew back in junior high.”

“Well, yeah, I suppose, but he just-”

Eiri sighed. “If Hirofumi wanted to be a stay at home husband then that’s fine. That’s his choice to make, but it isn’t his choice. Choosing to be a house husband and being forced to be a house husband are two completely different things. Nobody enjoys having their freewill taken away. You didn’t like it when I told you you had to quit Bad Luck, did you?”

Shuichi cringed at the memory. “Well no, but-”

“And on top of that,” Eiri continued as if Shuichi had not said anything, “Daigo won’t let him cut his hair.”

“He thinks Hirofumi looks good with longer hair and so do I.”

“He fuckin’ looks like Akihiko!”

Shuichi was taken a back. He had never thought about that before, but Eiri was right. Still though, that did not mean anything. Maybe Daigo had a thing for men with long hair. He himself was a sucker for blond haired men.

When an image of Tohma flashed through his head, he shuddered.

Scratch that. Make that six-foot tall blond haired men.

When an image of his psychotic manager popped into his head, he quickly amended himself once again as his stomach swirled nauseously.

Okay so make that six-foot tall blond haired, blond eyed Japanese writers.

Oh, yeah. Much better.

“Not only does he interfere so that Hirofumi can’t get or hold a job, he tries to prevent Hirofumi from going anywhere or seeing anyone unless they’re together! He wants to know where Hirofumi is at all times!”

“Yeah, but-”

“Then after Hirofumi gets into an accident after his junior high school class reunion, Daigo ends up keeping Hirofumi chained and locked up in their bedroom as a virtual sex slave!”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?” Eiri snapped back.

Shuichi flinched and cowered farther away from the heated anger.

Noticing this, Eiri tried to reign in his temper. Slipping off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a headache. “I understand that Daigo had a traumatic experience when he was younger,” he continued in a calmer voice.

Shuichi froze. Déjà vu swept through him. Something about this seemed vaguely familiar.

“But it’s because of what he went through after Akihito died that his present relationship with Hirofumi is suffering and he doesn’t even see it!”

Shuichi slowly uncurled himself and turned towards Eiri.

“Daigo…because he’s allowed to continue to go through life without any sort of treatment, the psychological damage he suffered when Akihito died is affecting his judgment. It’s turning him into an abusive partner.”

Shuichi nodded. He got it now. Daigo and Eiri were similar. Both had suffered a traumatizing experience involving someone they trusted and loved dearly. The experience forever and profoundly changed both of their outlooks on life. The difference between them though was that unlike Daigo, Eiri had sought help, whether it had been voluntarily or forced upon him Shuichi was not sure, but Eiri had a psychologist he saw to help him sort through everything. He also had people around him, family and friends, who supported and loved him. Daigo on the other hand, had no one, no one but Hirofumi. Shuichi and Hirofumi were just as similar as Eiri was to Daigo. The two of them choose to stand by their man despite the hardships. Though, because Daigo refused to seek any sort of help, Shuichi could understand how much more difficult it must be for Hirofumi. But like him, Hirofumi refused to give up.

“We’re…the same,” Shuichi whispered.

Eiri blinked. “What?”

Shuichi lifted his head. Violet met gold. “Hirofumi and I.”

Eiri’s face softened.

“I get it. I really do.”

“Shu…”

“Yes, Daigo is mentally unstable, but Hirofumi loves him anyway.”

Eiri reached out and caressed Shuichi’s face. “Yes, but love doesn’t always conquer all. If things don’t change, if Daigo does not seek some sort of help, the next time something like this happens, Hirofumi might not be able to get out of it alive.”

Shuichi nodded sadly. “But that’s why Hirofumi had that doctor concoct that capsule thing.”

Dropping his hand, Eiri scoffed in disgust. “Ya okay so instead of pushing him to get the help that they all know he needs, they decide to encourage his suicidal rantings, even knowing damn well that it could be the death of Hirofumi. And, of course, instead of facing justice like a man when that happens, they gave him the easy way out by allowing him to commit suicide.”

Shuichi sighed. He pulled away from Eiri and moved to stand up. “It’s just a story, Eiri,” he reminded him.

Eiri pushed up from the couch and followed Shuichi into the kitchen. “Ya know what I hate the most about this story?”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. Usually, he enjoyed when their roles were reversed. This time, though, it was starting to get on his nerves. Now he knew how Eiri felt when he was bugging him.

“In the end, Hirofumi is made out to be the bad guy because when he tried to leave Daigo, which I applaud, Daigo tried to kill himself!”

“But all Daigo needs is to have Hirofumi by his side,” Shuichi said as he set his manga down on the bar and went to the refrigerator.

“Even if it turns him into a murderer?”

“Daigo wouldn’t-”

“A starving man will do anything for a scrape of bread.”

Shuichi sighed heavily. He had to remember to hide his manga somewhere so that Eiri could not get into them.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was mostly so that I could get out my frustrations with "Dear Myself" and "World’s End" (the sequel). If you’ve ever read them, you know what I’m talking about. I for one am with Eiri. The whole story pissed me off, which made writing Shuichi‘s argument hard as hell to write. And that part about Eiri telling Shuichi to quit Bad Luck is from the manga.


	44. Abandoned "Burning Heart"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Shuichi’s favorite fanfics has been abandoned.

* * *

 

**Chapter 44: Abandoned _Burning Heart_**

“Oh, man!” The whine echoed through the house.

Though his eye twitched, Eiri made no further indication of having heard anything. He blatantly refused to acknowledge his pink haired baka. You were asking for it if you encouraged the mentally unstable.

He would be the first to admit that having Shuichi around more has had its benefits. It was not just beneficial for himself, but for their daughter as well. Eiri suspected one of the reasons why Shuichi had taken on so many side projects in the last several months, thus placing Bad Luck on the back burner, was so that they could spend more time together--as a family.

Though, now that he thought about it, taking on so many jobs at once sort of defeated the whole purpose of them trying to spend more time together, or it should have. Even working on developing his cologne, his clothing line, as well as the bit parts in Ghost Whisperer and Who is It on top of being in the studio working on Bad Luck’s album, Shuichi has been home more in these past couple of years than he has in the past five years combined.

Having children changed everything.

It was something Shuichi’s manager could sympathize with, him having a son back in the States. Michael, K’s son with his actress wife Judy Winchester, traveled to Japan to visit his father a couple of times a year, and despite what either of them may claim, that arrangement could not be sufficient enough for either of them--at least not for an extended period. It wasn’t like at that yearly family gathering, perhaps at Christmas, where you--maybe--get to see those relatives you haven‘t see since last Christmas. You don’t go to bed wondering why Aunt Rena was never home to tuck you in at night. Uncle Hiroyuki didn’t become this strange guy you hang out once or twice a year for a few hours at a time because he had more important things to do than be home with you. It was probably why Claude “K” Winchester was the way he was when it came to Bad Luck, it takes his mind off the son he abandoned back in the States.

Unfortunately, neither Hiro nor Suguru had children so they could not even begin to understand what Shuichi was being forced to endure when they agreed that the band would go on yet another tour for a week or two. They were still at that stage where they felt the world was theirs to do with as they pleased. Neither had anyone to answer to. Neither had any responsibilities. Neither had a two year old daughter who waited by the window every night waiting eagerly for them to return home from a long day in the studio. Neither had a care in the world, which made them unsympathetic to the torturous plight their lead singer was suffering.

The one fear both he and Shuichi shared was to become a stranger to their own daughter.

Though, as great as having Shuichi at home more could be, it was just as equally unpleasant. September just could not get here fast enough.

So instead of drawing more attention to something that he was sure had been blown way out of proportion, he remained absolutely still and said absolutely nothing. He would pretend that the house was as silent as a tomb (and just as empty) because Sayo was spending the afternoon with her aunt Maiko and Shuichi was at the studio. Yes. He would just continued reading his script as if nothing drastic had happened within the last two months.

“This is so not fair!”

Eiri sighed. Damn it all to Hell and back. Was one day too much to ask for?

“Why?!”

Apparently.

He knew he would probably regret asking this, but in the end, he knew he would be protecting his sanity if he were to ask than if he were to try to ignore his idiot lover. He was not exactly sure how digging his own grave could be more beneficial to his health than continuing to ignore Shuichi, but he was certain it would. “What is it this time?”

Sniffling, Shuichi turned from his laptop to regard Eiri sitting in the armchair behind him. “Burning Heart has been put on permanent hiatus!”

Eiri rolled his eyes from behind the safety of his manuscript. “And that would be…?”

“My favorite-est fanfic of all time!”

Eiri’s eye twitched at Shuichi’s ill grammar. Lowering his script, he scoffed at the sight of Shuichi, who was sprawled out at his feet. “For the love of--You’re crying over a story?”

“It’s not just a story Eiri!”

Of course not. Shame on him for thinking otherwise. Eiri sighed.

“It, it, it’s the most romantic tale of star struck lovers who must fight against the ridicule of their families and the scorn of society in order to be together and just when you think it’s going to be a happy ending they get broadsided by a drunk driver on the way home from the movies.”

Sounded like something he’d write. It’s no wonder Shuichi was addicted to the story.

“Then why don’t you write your own ending?” Eiri suggested as he went back to his manuscript.

Shuichi snorted. He turned back to his laptop. “Me? Write a story? Yeah, right. I can barely write song lyrics remember?”

Eiri sighed. He supposed he deserved that.

“This sucks,” Shuichi harrumphed.

Eiri peered over the top of his manuscript and sighed in disgust. He could not believe that Shuichi was this depressed over some stupid story. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath. Knowing he had been right the first time, he knew he would be just as correct this time in his belief that pushing this any further was going to make him want to hang himself, but instead of giving heed to himself, he marked his place and put his manuscript aside. “Show me this stupid story.”

“Huh?” Shuichi glanced blankly over his shoulder at him.

“Don’t ‘huh’ me. Just show me the freaking story.”

“…Oh…kay.” Not understanding what Eiri was up to, Shuichi scooted aside and handed Eiri his laptop. “Why-?”

The ringing of the phone halted anything more Shuichi would have said.

Scrambling to his feet, Shuichi rounded the armchair and skirted the dining table. He picked up the cordless extension on the wall in the kitchen mid-ring. “ _Moshi. Moshi_ ,” he greeted over the line. “…Oh, hey, Ma. What’s up?”

Eiri focused his attention back on the fanfic before him as Shuichi‘s laughter floated passed him.

 

* * *

 

**The Next Day**

He had never been more bored in his entire life. With his chin cupped in his hand, Shuichi slumped over his laptop while his other hand pressed the down arrow key repeatedly. He heaved a great sigh. Even the laughter of his daughter who was watching Ni Hao, Kai-Lan could do nothing to elevate his boredom.

What he would not give to be in the studio right about now arguing over some trivial matter with Suguru.

Something on his laptop’s screen caught his attention. Instantly perking up, Shuichi dropped his hand and pressed his face closer to the monitor. “What the hell?” Was he seeing things? He clicked on the link. Then moved the cursor to the upper right hand corner of the screen and clicked on the arrow. The drop-down link box unfolded before him. He scrolled down to the bottom. There it was. Holding his breath, he clicked on the link with a sweaty, unsteady hand.

 

* * *

 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

The insistent sound of clacking emanating from the study paused as Shuichi’s exclamations echoed through the condo.

“Wahoo!”

Eiri chuckled. “Baka,” he muttered around his unlit cigarette. With a sly smirk on his face, his fingers danced over the keyboard once more.

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those who don’t know, Ni Hao, Kai-Lan, is like Dora the Explorer, but instead of learning Spanish, you learn Chinese.


	45. A Sojourn into the Fashion World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way home from Shuichi’s first fashion show, he asks Eiri for his opinion.

**Chapter 45: A Sojourn into the Fashion World**

**Japan Fashion Week - Leaving Minato, Tokyo, Japan - In Route to Chiyoda, Tokyo, Japan**

Because being confined to the house for three months was causing him to go stir crazy and that he was beginning to drive his husband absolutely insane and seeing as his house arrest (as he saw it) was almost over anyway (he only had a few short weeks left), he did not see why he just could not return to work earlier than projected. Of course, to do that he needed his physician’s permission. And of course, his physician, Dr. Koto, had advised against it. He felt Shuichi needed to take it easy for a little while longer. He had just overdose on dextroamphetamine after all.

Eiri had agreed with Shuichi’s primary care physician.

On the other hand, Dr. Takata had not seen anything wrong with the idea as long as Shuichi stuck to the strict ground rules that he laid down.

Shuichi had agreed with Dr. Takata.

It wasn’t as if he had forgotten what had transpired just six short weeks ago. It was just the opposite in fact. He will never forget waking up at the hospital and finding Eiri sitting at his bedside, his eyes bloodshot and red rimmed from crying. He will never forget the haunted look on Eiri’s face he had tried (and failed) to mask as he spewed those harsh words at his idiocy. How could he forget that his daughter had seen her daddy collapsed on the floor under the table? How could he possibly forget the terror that he had seen in Eiri’s eyes when his husband thought he had lost him? No. He will never forget. He will never ever forget. It was something that would stay with him until the day he left this world for the next. It was something he would never forgive himself for.

So many people were inconvenienced because of his stupidity. There was his partner Akihito Nioji and everybody else at “Rei”, his clothing line. There was his partner Hideyuki Asatake who has been helping to develop his perfume “Sai’ai”. There was his music with both Bad Luck and the songs he had on the soundtrack for Who Is It. There was his cameo appearance in the movie itself and the small part in TV Tokyo’s new mecha anime Ghost Whisperer they were producing. When he accidentally overdosed and was placed on forced leave by his doctors, everybody had been forced to pay the price. That was something he could not continue to allow. He had to make it up to all of them, which was why he had been so adamant in making it to tonight’s premiere of his clothing line.

Shuichi turned as much as the seatbelt would allow. “So,” he drawled as he faced his husband who was sitting behind the wheel of his Mercedes-Benz.

“So,” Eiri echoed him perfectly, “what?” He checked the side mirror and seeing his chance, signaled and switched lanes. The last thing he wanted was to wind up in Shibuya when all he wanted was to go to Shuichi’s parents to pick up their daughter and then head home to bed.

Shuichi scoffed. “Eiri,” he scolded.

“What?” Eiri asked in that same uninterested voice.

“What did you think?!” Shuichi cried feeling exasperated. Even after all of these years together, being with Eiri could still be so aggravating.

“About…?”

“My line!”

“Your line?”

“And be honest,” Shuichi added.

“You want my honest opinion?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. In my honest opinion, it was like watching a Victoria’s Secret fashion show.”

Shuichi wasn’t sure how to take that. “…Are you comparing my clothes I slaved over-”

Eiri scoffed. His partner, Akihito, did most of the work. If anything, Shuichi did add some of his own input, but if anyone “slaved” over this clothing line it was Akihito and the others at Rei not Shuichi.

“-to women’s lingerie?”

“No.”

Shuichi breathed a sigh of relief.

“Lingerie covers more.”

“Hey!”

Eiri chuckled. “Though I’m sure…”

Shuichi held his breath.

“…a streetwalker’s John is going to love them.”

Shuichi blinked. When he spied the corner of his husband’s mouth twitch, he narrowed his violet eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Eiri confessed confidently.

“Jerk,” Shuichi said.

Eiri chuckled.

Shuichi slumped down in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted my honest opinion.”

“Yeah, well,” Shuichi muttered, “most people would’ve lied.”

“Then it wouldn’t’ve been my honest opinion.”

“Whatever,” Shuichi grumbled.

“You should just be grateful.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Of what?”

“Dr. Takata and Dr. Koto didn’t have to agree to you going tonight. So, just be thankful for the small reprieves they’ve granted from your ‘house arrest’.”

Just because he was right did not mean that Shuichi had to like it. “I knew I shoulda left you at home and went by myself.”

Eiri chuckled.

“Besides,” Shuichi added slyly, “you didn‘t seem to mind that my clothes covered less than women‘s lingerie the other night.”

Remembering the day Shuichi was referring to all too well; Eiri sat up straighter in his seat and cleared his throat as he concentrated a little too hard on driving through the darkened streets.

Seeing the pinkish tints coloring his husband’s usually pale face, Shuichi smirked in triumph.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	46. Blissful Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The release of Hiro and Suguru’s side project is not the olive branch Shuichi had in mind.

**Chapter 40: Blissful Memories**

Taking a sip of his tea, Eiri scanned the newspaper laid out before him on the table at the back alley diner. It was an out of the way place that you would walk right passed if you did not know it was here. He just happened to stumble upon it one day when he was trying to flee from a pack of ravenous housewives (true story).

He was setting his teacup down into the saucer when a bold headline in the center of the page caught his immediate attention.

**Bad Luck Officially Announces Release of “Back to Zero”**

Curiosity getting the better of him, he scanned the article.

_Tokyo, July 25, 2009 - After nearly three years of silence, Bad Luck released a statement last night confirming the arrival of Back to Zero on August 31. Preorders begin tomorrow for the 12-track album co-produced by Suguru Fujisaki and Aya Miyagi (ASK’s Infinity, Temper‘s Babylon, Nittle Grasper‘s Sleepless in Tokyo). Back to Zero will be available on CD and digital download through NG Productions. The title track, the first single from Bad Luck’s highly anticipated third album, will be released to radio this Friday._

_While the band’s manager, Claude “K” Winchester, was quoted as saying that Back to Zero is sure to “change the face of pop music with its breath taking-ly beautiful tear jerker love songs”, critics and fans alike are giving the album mixed reviews. Some reviews are saying, “It was well worth the three year wait”. Others are slamming the album as nothing more than another “sad, sorry attempt at trying to recapture what had apparently been the highlight of BL’s career by reworking Gravity [the bands most successful album to date]. It’s painfully obvious they failed miserably.”_

_Back to Zero is the first album of new material from the pop band since their junior album  Give It Back was released over three years ago._

Eiri sighed heavily. Looks like Shuichi was right.

_“I’d be surprised if Back to Zero didn’t end up being a huge commercial flop and of course if that happens, they’ll all blame me even though I was the one who tried to warn them against recording this crap.”_

Taking another sip of his tea, Eiri turned the page of the newspaper. He would have to remember to tell Shuichi that he made the papers again. For some reason even after five years, he still got a kick out of it.

“No way. Are you serious?”

Eiri lifted his head from the newspaper and watched as two high school aged girls walked passed his table with their heads pushed together. They were speaking in low, hushed tones. Both had serious expressions of their faces. They shuffled into the booth behind him, one girl on either side.

“Would you like a refill, sir?”

Eiri turned his gaze from the girls who were now leaning over the table with their heads together and speaking adamantly to see his waitress waiting patiently at the end of the table with a coffee pot in her hand. “No, thank you. Just the check please,” he said, returning his attention back to the newspaper.

“Of course, sir.”

Not catching the disappointed expression that crossed the waitress’s face before she turned and rounded the crowded diner expertly back to the work area behind the counter, Eiri prayed that Sayo and Shuichi hadn’t trashed the condominium while he’s been away. He swore it was like having two children sometimes.

“-just released Back to Zero.”

That caught his immediate attention.

“I know,” replied the other girl, “but Hiro-san twitted it last night. He and Fujisaki-kun are going to be releasing their own solo CD-”

Eiri went tense. Because Shuichi had a tendency to go off on a tangent, he had quickly learned to tune his partner out. This has been the cause of much friction between the pair, but listening to Shuichi drone on and on and on and on always seemed to give him killer migraines. He was sure, though, that if Shuichi had mentioned something about his band members releasing their own album he would remember, even if he was an expert at ignoring his partner’s constant ramblings. “You,” he barked as he rose slowly from his seat and turned towards them. “What did you just say?”

 

* * *

 

**A Month Later**

Shuichi bobbed his head in time to the electronic club beats that filled the soundproof studio from the speakers. When he heard the sound of distant pounding, he lowered the volume and swiveling his chair around, stood up and jogged across the studio.

“Fuji,” he greeted warmly when he opened the door to find his neighbor standing on the other side.

“Hey, Shu,” Ishi Fuji said with a half smile.

“What’s up?”

Fuji opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. He tipped his head to listen. “What’re you listening to?”

“Huh? Oh! Uhm…” Shuichi scratched his head sheepishly. A pinkish hue colored his cheeks. “It’s, uh, just something I’ve been working on.” He shrugged.

“Wow.” He listened to the music emanating out from the studio, moving his head in time with the fast bass beats. “I like it. Reminds me of The Free, Activate or Maxx from back in the 90‘s.”

Shuichi‘s face brightened at the compliment, though there was still some hesitation. “Yeah?” He beamed a wide toothy grin at the guitarist. “Thanks!”

“Is that stuff for Bad Luck’s next album?”

Snorting, Shuichi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Not in this lifetime.” Even with the bad reviews that were saying the same exact things he has been trying to tell the guys since the onset of Back to Zero, there was no way Bad Luck’s next album would mix things up, if there even was a next Bad Luck album. “So, what’s up?”

“Huh?” Fuji looked blank for a moment before remembering that there was a reason why he had come to see Shuichi. “Oh, yeah, well, the guys and I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“Well, we were wondering, if you wouldn’t mind--ya know…jamming with us.”

Shuichi‘s eyes widened in shock and surprise. “Really? Me? Jam? With you guys?”

Fuji nodded. “Yeah. I mean, since Chizo found God and quit the band last spring, we’ve sorta been in limbo, ya know?” He shrugged. “I mean, i-i-it’s up to you.” He dropped his gaze to the carpet beneath his sneakered feet.

Chizo Minase used to be the lead singer of Fuji’s band Torture, but sometime this past spring, she up and quit the nu metal rock band quite unexpectedly. The last any of them heard from her, she had entered the monastery.

Shuichi bit his lip as he considered the offer. Truthfully, he had a lot more in common with the guys from Torture than from his own band mates nowadays. In fact, he still has not spoken to them since they completed Back to Zero, which was set for release in a matter of days. The knowledge that Blissful Memories, a blues-jazz album that Hiro and Suguru had been secretly working on for the past year and a half, had been released through NG Productions a mere week after Bad Luck’s latest album came out did not help to mend their broken relationship any.

A month ago, Eiri had come home from his weekly appointment with his psychologist and said, _“I didn’t know Hiro and Suguru were working on a solo CD.”_

At first, he’d thought Eiri was joking around. Then he thought that maybe Eiri had over heard those children wrong, but one phone call had confirmed everything.

_“Oh! I’m sorry! Did I not inform you? My bad,”_ Tohma said in that tone that was both innocent and devilishly sly at the same time.

He’d been furious! If they would have just come right out and told him, it would not have been such a big deal. He’d had his own share of side projects and if the guys wanted to participate in their own, who was he to refuse them? Besides, at least their side project had not interfered with Bad Luck as his had. Being upset over Hiro and Suguru putting out a solo album would be like the pot calling the kettle black. What angered him the most was that he’d had to find out from his husband who’d just happened to overhear a couple of girls talking about it.

Not only was he upset over the fact that Hiro and Suguru had not seen the need to inform him of something like this, but he felt it was unfair of them to deny him the opportunity to evolve the band’s sound, or at least come up with something a little more original than what they’ve been releasing lately, while at the same time, the two of them were secretly conspiring to put together an album whose sound was a complete one-eighty from anything Bad Luck had ever and would ever put out.

Besides, wasn’t a side project something like his clothing line or his perfume? An album that did not include him was something else entirely. He knew it was petty, but if they could do something as notorious as that, why should he be left out of all the fun? It could be argued that he had recorded those two songs for the Who is It soundtrack as a solo artist, but that was entirely different. And of course, there were those songs that Shinya “Black Cat” Okugawa had written for him…

A slow grin crossed his face. “Alright,” he nodded.

Fuji blinked. “Serious?”

Shuichi shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” It was not as if he had anything to lose.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	47. The New Sparkly Shuichi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a long time since Ryuichi was able to play with Shuichi and when he decides to go visit with Kuma, he comes upon a very different “sparkly” Shuichi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inserted: "Rain Down" by Nova Williams
> 
> A/N: This chapter if from Ryuichi's POV

**Chapter 47: The New Sparkly Shuichi**

**Five Months Later**

Was he optimistic? Yes. Yes, he was. People said there was not a pessimistic bone in his body and they would be right. He might even be too optimistic for his own good sometimes. Ryuichi Sakuma was not as imbecilic as he came across. And because there were people who did not take him as seriously as they should, because of how “childish” he acted, he knew things. It was much like an adult who speaks without censor in front of a child. They say things they shouldn’t and because a child is so innocently naïve, it’s going to repeat what it heard. You have to be careful what you say and where you say it because sometimes the walls do have ears. But with as much as he knew, this was the one time that even he had been left shocked.

To say he never saw this coming would be an understatement. Weren’t he and Shuichi friends? Best friends? So why did nobody tell him? But really, thinking about it, even if he would have known then what he knew now, he still never would have seen it coming.

Of course, he’d heard things were not going very well between the guys. Who hadn’t? Like everyone else, though, he hadn‘t seen the need to be worried. Why should he have been? The little he heard of the rumored infighting did not sound any different from the way the trio had always acted since he was first introduced to them.

Shuichi and Suguru tended to butt heads. It was a given. That was just the way they both were. Both were creative and stubborn. Both refused to give an inch. It was not like it was anything new. Their arguments and bickering was legendary in the industry.

At first, their constant squabbling had been a source of uncertainty and unease. This was Bad Luck? This was the pop band that appeared on the scene virtually overnight and, quite literally, stole the thunder from every other promising new band out there? They were protégés of and heirs to Nittle Grasper‘s throne?

Then the doubt turned to amusement.

The amusement then morphed into awe when the music flowed through them and Shuichi’s angelic voice enveloped them.

People quickly learned that this was just the way Shuichi Shindou and Suguru Fujisaki were. This was how the greatness that was Bad Luck was born. But while Bad Luck’s followers, whether fans or not, were laughing at the band’s now legendary comedic interactions, bitterness and resentment had been building within the two outspoken members.

When Tohma first suggested adding his baby cousin Suguru Fujisaki to the line up, at first, he honestly hadn’t understood why. He personally liked Bad Luck the way they were. It had been so much fun to be up there singing with them! Yes, the duo had been a little rough around the edges, but given a little time and some coaching, all that would have been smoothed out. Besides, what band wasn’t a little unprofessional in the beginning? Tohma may have forgotten, but he hadn’t. Even Nittle Grasper had had its problems in the beginning. They hadn’t always been a world-class pop/rock band.

At the same time, he’d known that yes, Suguru could possibly be an asset to Bad Luck. Suguru was more than just talented. He was a protégé in his own right. A genius pianist. It might be a bit of an over exaggeration, but he always thought of Suguru as being maybe not in the same league as Mozart, but as close as one could become. Being put in a pop band seemed like it would be such a waste of Suguru’s talents. Instead of fostering his talent, it seemed to be more of a punishment, but the first time he heard what exactly Tohma’s cousin could do, he knew that he had been wrong in his assumptions. Having Suguru join Bad Luck was the best decision that Tohma could have ever made.

The already great band had become a serious contender in the world of music.

But then the bickering began. On the surface, it seemed to be the same power struggle that had cursed the band from the onset, but a deeper examination told the truth.

He wondered if people would be shocked or surprised to hear that not a single civil word had ever been exchanged between Shuichi and Suguru. Most of the time their arguments centered on trivial, insignificant matters, but those types of arguments can have more of a lasting effect than an all out, knock down brawl. The evidence of that was now painfully clear for all to see.

Only two weeks after Bad Luck’s album Back to Zero was finally released, to decidedly mixed reception, Hiro and Suguru released a side project they had been secretly working on together. An album of blues-jazz songs featuring some of the genres most legendary as well as up and coming blues and jazz singers aptly entitled, Blissful Memories. Their album has sold more to date than all of Bad Luck’s albums combined.

Gravity, Bad Luck’s debut album, was certified Diamond back in October after having sold over ten million copies. Their self-titled sophomore album, which was also Suguru’s debut as a producer, to date has sold a little over two million copies. Give It Back, their junior album, has sold nearly two million copies since its release three and a half years ago. Back to Zero has been doing a little better than their two previous albums, selling five hundred thousand copies so far since its released.

The rumors that the band was on the verge of collapse gained new steam when Hiro and Suguru’s album came out, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it. There was no way he could believe it. Every band, just as every couple, had issues. It was all about compromise. Whatever was going on with the trio could be worked out. Ryuichi was certain of it. But Kumagoro had pointed out that even Nittle Grasper had taken a three-year hiatus. Maybe this would be no different? Oh, how he wished he could believe that. Unfortunately, even someone like him who was said to not have a pessimistic bone in his body was finding it difficult to believe that the band had a future together now that Shuichi had released his solo album, Atrevido, a fifteen-track Eurodance album that included several bonus hip-hop/Eurodance tracks produced by Shinya “Black Cat” Okugawa.

Shuichi’s solo album, Atrevido, was released a month before Christmas and in the two months since its release had already sold three million copies.

It’s ironic, but it seemed as if the members of Bad Luck were more popular as solo artists than they ever were as a band.

It’s just too bad Shuichi wasn’t here. He’d called him last night asking if they could meet because he really wanted to speak with his friend. Because stupid, mean, old Mr. Yuki was always there, he did not want to go to Shuichi’s house, though it would be fun to play with Sayo again. He liked her. She was lots of fun. They had so much in common! They liked the same shows and liked to play the same games! It was too bad she had stupid Yuki’s looks. Oh, well. He wasn’t going to hold that against her. It wasn’t her fault after all. Shuichi tries to tell him that Yuki wasn’t as mean as he pretended to be. That he was actually sweet. Ryuichi did not buy it because he knew. He wasn’t sure if Shuichi was telling a nasty, nasty lie (to protect himself or stupid Mr. Yuki he wasn’t sure) or if he actually believed what he was saying, but Yuki was anything but sweet. Mr. Yuki refused to leave Shuichi alone with him for even a second and he was always glaring at him! No. Ryuichi did not like Mr. Yuki at all. Not one bit. Knowing that he and stupid Mr. Yuki did not get along, Shuichi had invited him here to his studio, so he’d had Tohma drop him off, but the singer wasn’t even here! Had Shuichi forgotten?

What a let down.

Had something come up? He’d left a message on Shuichi’s voicemail, so hopefully he’d get back to him soon. Maybe they could go out for lunch, or something.

Despite the carpeted hall, he heard the echo of high heels before he saw her. A woman was striding down the hall towards him with purpose. She had an air of authority about her. She appeared to be around his age with hair the color of oil that had been into a boyish cut that did not look very flattering. Dark blue-rimmed sunglasses, so large Ryuichi was sure they would cover seventy-five percent of her face when she wore them, sat on top of her head. They matched her pencil skirt and fitted suit coat perfectly. The color did absolutely nothing for her. She was carrying two large white pizza boxes with a white Styrofoam container on top. Dangling from her arm was a white plastic bag that appeared to have two two-liter bottles of pop. Ryuichi’s mouth started watering and his stomach rumbled as the smell of pizza filled the hall.

Without sparing him a glance, the woman stopped at the door across the hall from Shuichi’s studio. She set the plastic bag with the pop down on the floor at her feet and balancing the pizza and what he was assuming was either chicken wings or chicken fingers in her left hand, she produced a set of keys in her right hand. The sound of the door’s locks releasing echoed loudly in the silence of the hallway. The door sprang open and heavy metal music blasted out.

When a familiar voice emanated out of the studio and into the hall, Ryuichi went still.

**The sound of your destruction**   
**It’s a sweet symphony**   
**Like a Heavenly choir**   
**Their wings rain down**   
**They reign like razor blades**   
**Don’t complain**   
**This is the end**   
**Isn’t this what you wanted**

**Rain down (Just rain down)**   
**Just rain down**

“Shuichi?”

He felt ill.

The woman pulled her key out of the lock and tossed it into the studio. The sound of its landing was lost amidst the noise pouring out into the hallway. Retrieving the bag off the floor, she stepped into the studio and with a bump of her hip, attempted to close the door, but Ryuichi noticed the latch did not catch. Instead, it hit the jam and bounced back open. Curiosity getting the better of him, Ryuichi crept forward.

Whoever was singing sounded an awful lot like Shuichi. In fact, it sounded exactly like Shuichi, but it couldn’t be. Shuichi was Bad Luck’s lead singer. They were a pop band. They sang happy songs about being in love. And this was not anything close to what Bad Luck sounded like. The sound was too heavy, too emphatic. It was too--too--Ryuichi was not sure what it was, but it was not Shuichi.

Ryuichi peered through the crack in the door. There was that woman. She was setting the food she’d brought with her on a table on the far side of the room. As he scanned the rest of the studio, he caught sight of a group of men and women.

The two girls appeared to be twins. The one behind the drum set had jet-black hair that was flying everywhere as she moved her head like one of those bobble dolls. The other one was strumming a blindingly white guitar. She’d colored her hair a strange purple-pink color that hung straight down to her waist. He’d never seen such long hair before. In black high heels, black fitted skinny jeans and a royal purple corset halter top she was a sight to see, especially with the sleeve of tattoos on both her left as well as her right arm.

There were four guys. One man was behind a series of keyboards that he seemed to be playing all at once. With his bright pink hair, he reminded him of Shuichi. He even had the same haircut. The one strumming the bass guitar had bright yellow hair in long choppy layers and the guy with the electric guitar had blue spiked hair. Each wore similar black baggy pants with various chains and hooks and straps. The keyboardist had a long sleeved black fishnet shirt over a plain black T-shirt. The other two were wearing short-sleeved T-shirts with some sort of decal on the front.

And dead center with his hands cupped around a microphone was…

“Shuichi?”

No, it couldn’t be. Gone was the signature pink hair. Instead, Shuichi had gone back to his original hair color. It was now blacker than the drummer’s hair. That was not the only difference. His usual bob had undergone a transformation. He was now sporting an asymmetrical layered razor-cut. Eyes as violet as he remembered shinned as his angelic voice filled the studio and spilled out into the hall. A pair of blue jeans, his black boots and a black vest over a white T-shirt completed his outfit.

Truthfully, the look was not new. At least to him. These were the clothes that had sat in the back of Shuichi’s closet for years. He never worn them out in public, just around the house. When asked, Shuichi confessed, “Bad Luck has a specific image” and most of the clothes in his closet just did not fit that image. He’d always wondered about that. And did it extend to more than his clothing.

Shuichi had even gone back to his roots many times over the years, so having colored his bright pink locks black was not unexpected. Shuichi’d explained to him that his stylist had informed him that he needed to let his hair breathe between colorings. Ryuichi wondered if Shuichi planned to color it again.

But who were these guys? And why was Shuichi singing with them? What was going on? Is this why he’d missed their date?

As Shuichi’s voice poured over him, as the heavy beats flowed through him and around him, Ryuichi couldn’t help but notice that even though Shuichi was not wearing knee-high boots, short shorts, a belly baring, tight cropped shirt, fingerless gloves or a floor length duster, not singing about falling in love all over again and even though he did not have Hiro by his side, he seemed--content. He was smiling and there was a glow about him. For the first time in a long time, Shuichi seemed to be at peace.

Smiling softly, Ryuichi retreated back into the hall, pulling the door shut gently (not that anyone would be able to hear him over the music either way).

“Sparkle Shuichi,” he whispered to the closed door. With Kumagoro agreeing with him, Ryuichi turned and started down hall towards the elevator. When he pressed the call button, the stainless steel doors slid open automatically with a loud ping. He stepped inside and paused with his finger on the button for the lobby. Was it just him or had Shuichi’s nails been black? Releasing the button, Ryuichi stepped back as the doors slid closed and with a jolt, the elevator began to move. “So, Mr. Bear, how bout some pizza?”

Kumagoro thought that sounded like a good idea.

 

* * *

 

“Get lost, Ryu?”

The sound of the unexpected voice as he was stepping out of the building had Ryuichi’s head snapping up and around. Kumagoro’s ear that he had been chewing on flopped free, landing sopping wet on top of Kumagoro’s head. “Tohma,” he explained at the sight of his band mate who was leaning casually against the side of his white Rolls Royce Phantom.

“I was thinking the three of us could go have lunch,” Tohma suggested as he straightened.

“Oo! Kuma and I were just talking about going for pizza!”

Tohma nodded. “Pizza it is then,” he said as he rounded to the driver’s side door.

“Yay!” Skipping around to the passenger side, hugging Kumagoro to his chest, Ryuichi thought back to Shuichi. He was happy for his friend. “Hey, Tohma?”

“Yes, Ryu?”

“Do you think I can paint my nails black, too?”

Tohma blinked at Ryuichi who was buckling Kumagoro into the seat between the driver and passenger seats. “What brought this on?”

As he put on his seatbelt, Ryuichi told Tohma what he had seen of the new Shuichi.

At first Tohma said nothing. He went through the motions of putting on his seatbelt, locking the car doors and starting the ignition. Adjusting the rearview mirror, he waited for a lull in the traffic before pulling away from the curb.

Worried, Ryuichi spoke up. “Toh-?”

“What Mr. Shindou does,” Tohma interrupted as he maneuvered expertly through the afternoon rush, “is no longer any of my concern.”

Biting his lip, Ryuichi exchanged a look with Kumagoro who said, “I told you so.”

 

**...To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: “Atrevido” means “daredevil” in Spanish. The Rolls Royce Phantom costs like four-hundred thousand USD.


	48. Breaking News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She may have been jilted by Mr. Eiri Yuki, but that was not going to stop her from getting what she wanted.

**Chapter 48: Breaking News**

“Our Top Stories that we are following for you this evening: Cosplay singer Reni Mimura will be playing at Zenkaikon in Pennsylvania, UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon denounces as "shocking and shameless" a Taliban attack which killed five UN staff in Kabul, the US space agency has launched the Ares I-X, a prototype rocket designed to replace the ageing shuttle and the Japanese Navy destroyer Kurama hits a cargo ship, but first, we turn to Den Moriguchi at the weather desk for an update on the weather. It was a beautiful day out today.”

“Yes, it was,” came the peppy reply from the meteorologist.

Eiri rolled his eyes as he, with help from Sayo, was setting the table for dinner. “Shu,” he sighed as he folded the cloth napkins, “must you watch that cra-?” Catching sight of his impressionable three-year-old daughter out of the corner of his eye who was sliding the last plate onto the table, he caught himself from swearing. “Watch that?” he corrected.

From his position on the edge of the coffee table where he was sitting bent double over his knees, his chin resting in his hands, he threw over his shoulder without taking his eyes from the screen, “Yes.”

“Papa!”

“In a minute, Sayo,” Eiri told his daughter, “I’m talking to Daddy.” He turned back to his husband. “Why? It’s not going to be any different from when you watched it at noon.”

“Papa!”

“In a minute, Sayo.”

“Actually,” Shuichi was saying, “there’s supposed to be a commercial for our show.”

Eiri rolled his eyes at his husband’s back as he handed his impatient daughter the napkins. “It’s not for two months.”

“I know,” Shuichi answered distracted.

Eiri heaved a sigh.

“We have to advertise it, otherwise, nobody’ll know about it.”

Why must he over exaggerate? “Shu,” Eiri told his newly raven-haired partner, “you joined a new band. You didn’t die.”

Dropping his hands, Shuichi sat up and twirled around to face his husband and daughter. Eiri was walking behind their daughter placing the silverware on top of the red cloth napkins she was putting next to the black plates. “Yeah, but-!”

“But what?” Eiri called over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen.

“We need cups, Papa,” Sayo told her father as she followed him.

“Yes, we do,” Eiri confirmed in a light tone. His voice returned to normal when he addressed Shuichi. “Didn’t your fans support you when you released your solo album?” His booming voice could be heard clearly across the condominium. “Wasn’t your tour a success?”

“Well, yeah,” Shuichi answered sheepishly.

It still shocked, amazed and humbled him that his solo album and the following tour in support of it had been so well received and as successful as it had been. He had to admit he’d been extremely nervous. Stage fright had been an ugly mistress during the short tour. For one, it was the first time he’d performed since Bad Luck’s Give it Back tour. That had been at least four years ago. Secondly, it was his first time performing without feeling the supportive presences of Hiro and Suguru at his backs. To say the least, the tour in support of his solo debut had been an experience on many fronts.

NG Productions hadn’t promoted Back to Zero like they usually would have. There had been no tour in support. In fact, there’d been only one single released from what had turned out to be Bad Luck’s last album. During the shoot, he hadn’t had any scenes together with Hiro and Suguru.

Though, not everyone had reacted to it as well as his fans and the critics had. After getting over the initial shock, Eiri and the rest of his family had actually been quite happy for him. Well, Eiri had been after his anger had cooled down. Frankly, he’d been stymied as to why Eiri had been so angry with him. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t talked about the possibility of him leaving the band and going solo.

_“You said, and I quote, ‘Do what you want.’”_

Okay, so maybe he should have confessed that he’d gone ahead with the plan to release his own album. Oh, well. Nothing he could do about that now. Other than being upset over being left out of the loop, Eiri’d been supportive of this latest venture. He always was.

But there were some whose anger has still not dwindled. Those people he thought would be the most proud of him for Atrevido were the ones who turned out to oppose everything about it.

Understandably, Hiro and Suguru had been outraged when they learned of his solo album. What upset them the most about it was that he had finished it in record time. When it had taken over three years to complete Back to Zero, it took all of three months to complete and release Atrevido. They still were not speaking.

…As for Tohma Seguchi…

What was there to say about a man who he had admired from an early age and, to a certain degree, still did? A man who was his brother-in-law? A man who, despite his misgivings, had given Bad Luck a chance when nobody else would give them the time of day? A man who created and molded Bad Luck into what it became? A man who, in essence, created Shuichi Shindou?

His now ex-band mates had taken the revelation of his solo CD relatively well compared to the president of NG Productions. It just so happened that at the same time he was working on Atrevido, while Hiro and Suguru had been able to sail through the renegotiations of their contracts with NG Productions with ease, he, on the other hand, had been fighting his boss tooth and nail. It’d been a losing battle. The release of Atrevido was the final nail in the coffin. He woke the morning of its release to a short, but clear message on the answering machine.

_“Affective immediately, I am terminating your employment with NG Productions.”_

There were no words to describe how he felt, how he still felt: confusion, disbelief, denial, humiliation, embarrassment, anger… He’d felt them all, one at a time and several at once. He was not even sure how many times he listened to that message. At first, the knowledge that he had been fired from his record company did not hit him. It was like having a conversation with someone who spoke a foreign language you did not know. When the news finally sunk in, it’d felt like the biggest betrayal of his life.

If it was even possible, Eiri had been more upset over the news than he‘d been.

“In fact,” Eiri continued as he took two cups out of the cupboard and handed them to Sayo, “isn’t it doing better than anything Bad Luck ever put out?” He took a third cup out of the cupboard and followed his daughter back into the dining room.

Shuichi felt his face go up in flames. “Well, yeah,” he admitted.

To say that Tohma was feeling a bit miffed over the lost opportunity to cash in on such a successful album would be an understatement. Letting him go because of something as trivial as his continued disapproval of his relationship with Eiri had been the biggest mistake the president of NG Productions could have made. Of course, Tohma would never admit to having made such an error in judgment. It was too late now either way. For it was less than thirty seconds after the bombshell turn of events that he’d received a phone call from another record company. This one had offices all around the world.

_“We’ll do whatever it takes to get you to sign with Sony records.”_

By the end of that day, Shuichi Shindou was part of the Sony family.

“Then I wouldn’t worry about people not knowing about your next concert.”

Eiri‘s voice tore him from his thoughts. It took him several moments to remember what it was they were speaking about. “But Eiri,” Shuichi pushed, “it’s not a Shuichi Shindou concert. It’s Torture’s debut concert.”

Joining Ishi’s band had not been an easy decision.

Yes, his record company had fired him, but it was the company he’d been with since he was a senior in high school. If it were not for NG Productions, he would not be who he was today. Yes, he, Hiro and Suguru were not on speaking terms once again, but it was not as if Bad Luck had officially been disbanded. It was not as if he had actually been fired from Bad Luck and he had not given either Hiro or Suguru layoff notices. Besides, Bad Luck was his band. It was his life. It was who he was. Despite everything that had happened between them, he still felt a sense of loyalty towards Hiro, Suguru, Bad Luck and the Bad Luck fans. He’d always thought that despite the many side projects he had taken on, the guys would always be there for him, for better or worse, through the hard times and the good, for richer or poorer. He knew he was contradicting himself, what with him having thought about quitting the band numerous times in the past couple of years, but still wanting them at his side.

As for Torture, though minus a lead singer, yes, he’d thought they had a bright future ahead of them. They had everything a record company seeks in a band: remarkable talent and the ability to grow. Yes, he’d joined them on numerous jam sessions. From the very first time he’d lent his voice to the singerless metal band, it’d been as if he’d always been part of the band. He did not have the type of singing style that suited rock let alone metal, but once Ishi let his HR Giger sing, all doubts vanished. Even after Ishi, Yuki, Manabu, Kita and Taira asked if he would officially join their band as their lead singer, he’d had some serious doubts. It had taken some serious soul searching before he agreed. There was still a part of him that voiced its concerns with his decision, though that voice had since started diminishing.

Eiri rolled his eyes. “And?”

Shuichi blinked. “Huh?” Once again, he’d lost the course of their conversation.

With a heavy sigh, Eiri shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Done, Papa?“ Sayo asked her father.

“Yep! How bout helping me with dinner now?”

Sayo cheered.

“Okay, go get your stool.”

“’Kay!” Sayo tore through the house towards her bathroom where her stool was located as Eiri strolled into the kitchen.

“We have breaking news from the entertainment world this evening,” the news anchor’s voice broke into Shuichi’s thoughts.

Spinning around, Shuichi turned his attention back to the television.

“A woman has come forward this evening claiming that her five year old daughter was fathered by bestselling romance author, Eiri Yuki.”

In an instant, Shuichi felt his world come crashing down around him.

If it was not one thing, it was another. There did not seem to be an end to the ridiculousness that they were constantly surrounded by. Was it Karma? Had they been cursed?

“What--the--hell?”

Shuichi really did not feel well.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	49. But the Kid Isn't Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiri and Shuichi set the record straight about the supposed love child.

**Chapter 49: But the Kid Isn’t Mine**

He could not believe that he had to do this. Wouldn’t it be easier to just release a statement to the press announcing what a liar that crazy bitch was? Of course it would. Or at least that was what he believed. But apparently, that would not do. Oh, no. Not if you were bestselling author of romance novels Eiri Yuki.

No matter how much trash was thrown his way, it was part of his job to endure such travesties. There was no such thing as a private life when you were someone like Eiri Yuki. Every detail of his life was on display for everyone to see. Though he may not like it, he did understand that it was unavoidable for him to appear in public.

When something like this happened where he was accused of a crime he did not commit by some woman, it just reinforced his belief that women were only after one of two things: sex or money. He still thought it would have been a whole hell of a lot easier to release a statement instead of agreeing to come on national television in order to be grilled by another woman who most likely believed the vicious lies being spread about him. Of course, that was exactly why he was on national television. His publicist and agent said something about the sympathy angle.

Whatever.

If allowing the public to delve even more into what little remained of his private, personal life would get the vultures off his back, then so be it. He just wished that Shuichi did not have to be here for this. While he understood why there was a need for him to be at his side while this scandal played out, the topic of their mutual infidelity was still an open wound. Yes, it was starting to heal, but it was still too fresh in both of their minds. Having it thrown back in their faces like this was like a child picking at a scab. Pick at it too much and the wound was likely to reopen.

Taking a deep breath, he lightly squeezed the smaller, trembling hand within his and pushed on with the interview.

“Here’s a little something everyone should have learned in Health 101.”

He knew how he sounded, but frankly did not care. This was going to be one of the most embarrassing interviews he had been forced to give in his entire life, but it had to be done. Otherwise, people would continue to believe the crap that woman (what the hell was her name again?) was spewing all over the morning news programs. She’d been on all the late night shows, national radio programs and on the front page and cover of every newspaper and magazine. And it had been less than twenty-four hours since she came forward with her allegations! The bitch was like the plague.

From besides him, Shuichi gave his hand a squeeze, a little reminder to remain calm.

Calm? Yeah right. His blood pressure was sky high at this point, had been ever since a way too calm Shuichi had called him into the living room to watch something on the news.

Okay. All right.

Calm.

Calm.

Breathe in--inhale. Hold it. Okay. Breathe out--exhale.

Calm.

Calm…

Dammit all to hell! He swore that if he ever laid eyes on the stupid cunt bitch again he would personally make sure she had another reason for being all over the television and radio.

Okay! Okay. Calm. Calm.

“For a woman to conceive, she has to do one of two things: be artificially inseminated or have sex with her husband.” Well, any man who wasn’t impotent actually. “Our daughter,” he continued, indicating himself and the man besides him, “Sayo was conceived through in vitro with the help of a surrogate mother and that same woman has agreed to be the surrogate mother for our second child.”

“Really?”

The woman interviewing him (he could not remember her name either), sounded genuinely surprised. He was not sure if he should be surprised or ecstatic over this fact. Usually, the press finds out things before he did. “Yes.”

“And what about this woman’s child? This C-?”

“I’m not sure how her daughter was conceived because I. Was. Not. There,” Eiri interrupted.

Shuichi squeezed his hand again. Tighter this time.

“So,” their interviewer said, “what you’re saying Mr. Yuki is that-”

“The kid isn’t mine.”

Why in the hell did he have to spell this out for everyone? Oh! That’s right. He’s Japan’s number one playboy. Or had been up until he met Shuichi over five years ago. Guess that reputation was still holding firm. Lucky him.

“So, you’re denying that you had a sexual relationship with her.”

Just like a member of the press. Putting words into his mouth. Bitch. This was why he preferred men to women. “I didn’t say that.”

“So you’re confirming you had a sexual relationship with her.”

Eiri had to fight not to roll his eyes. “I didn’t say that either.”

He felt Shuichi’s hand tighten around his. This time it had nothing to do with Shuichi reminding him to control his temper. Eiri reached over and covered their clasped hands with his free hand.

The woman slid forward in her chair. “What are you saying, Mr. Yuki?”

Shuichi refused to look anywhere but at Eiri-- his love, his husband, his soul mate, the father of his daughter. As painful as it was to sit here and hear about Eiri’s affair, to know that all of Japan was witness to the airing of their dirty laundry, he could not even begin to imagine what Eiri must be going through.

“I didn’t have any sort of ‘relationship’ with her,” Eiri was admitting.

He knew what Eiri was trying to say. Personally, he would have rather he never heard about the incident, but Eiri had insisted on telling him just went happened between him and the chick whose name he did not even know.

“So you did not cheat on Mr. Shindou.”

“I didn’t say that.”

By this time, Ms. Ajibana (whose name he was certain Eiri had quickly forgotten) was quickly growing frustrated. It was actually amusing to watch. As long as she did not direct any questions towards him, they would be fine. He hadn’t even wanted to be here, but his new manager, Eiri’s agent--Ms. Mizuki--and their publicist had insisted. He was to play the role of “the good wife”, which was, in essence, exactly what he was. Well, more like the good husband, but technicalities aside, it was a role he did not have to pretend to play. It was something that he was. He would always stick by Eiri’s side. Always. That was what being married meant. He did not break promises easily.

They’d dealt with Eiri’s infidelity as well as his own. He’d even been able to talk Eiri into going to couple’s counseling. It had not been too difficult a task. Unlike many other couples, the two of them still genuinely loved and cared about each other. They wanted to make it work, if for nothing more than for the sake of their daughter. Besides, it wasn’t as if either of them could point the finger at the other. You do that and you have three more pointing right back at you. In the end, they’d been able to work through the rough patches. Though, he’d have to admit that with this Chiharu woman (whose name he knew Eiri didn’t know) coming forward with her claims, all those old feelings of betrayal had resurfaced.

Having Tohma come bouncing over very early this morning believing the lies being spewed across the airwaves had not helped matters either.

“Mr. Yuki-”

Eiri dropped Shuichi‘s hand and leaned forward.

Shuichi could tell that Eiri was not very comfortable with this line of questioning. He, himself, was becoming quite agitated himself. The end of this interview could not come quickly enough.

He slid closer to Eiri and draped his arm across Eiri’s back.

“Look, I’ll say this: yes, I had an affair.” With this announcement, he felt the hand on his back halt its comforting massage momentarily before continuing to rub slow, lazy circles on his back. He reached out blindly and squeezed Shuichi’s knee.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for believing in me.

Sorry you had to be put through this.

“I cheated on Shuichi-”

Shuichi winced. He’d been told not to. They’d groomed him on what to do, what to say if asked a question, how he should behave and act, but it was not as simple as they all seemed to think it was.

“-but it was more than four years ago, before we were even engaged. What happened between me and…” What the hell was her name? “-her,” he decided, “couldn’t even be called a brief one night stand.”

Ajibana nodded, as if she’d known it all along. There was suddenly a smug air about her. “So it is possible that what Chiharu Yokuratoh is alleging could be in fact true.”

Eiri shook his head. “No.” It was something he did not even have to think over. There was no possible way he could have fathered that bastard child.

“How can you just shoot down her claim without any thought? You just admitted to having had sexual relations with her.”

Eiri could tell that his denial upset her greatly. If she was trying to make him feel guilty over abandoning a pregnant lover in favor a new play toy, then she was in for some disappointment. There was absolutely nothing he had to feel ashamed for, except for the very real fact that he’d been such an asinine idiot when he’d been unfaithful to his pink haired idiot. “Easily.”

Shuichi narrowed his gaze when out of the corner of his eyes he caught sight of Ajibana leaning forward towards Eiri. All Eiri had to do was shift his gaze oh so slightly and he would get a perfect view of their interviewer’s small, but perky breasts. Bitch. What the hell did Eiri and Maiko see in women? He did not get it. When Eiri’s golden sight remained on her face instead of her chest, without any sort of strain, he could tell that it added to Ajibana’s fury. She shifted back in her seat. It took everything he had not to jump to his feet and shout out a string of embarrassing, childish nonsense. Something along the lines of, “Yuki’s mine!” Oh, how the urge was driving him crazy! When Eiri’s grip on his leg tightened, he knew that Eiri had read his mind.

He encased the hand on his thigh with his free hand.

“Mr. Yuki, you claim to have had an affair with Ms. Yokuratoh and yet claim this child, which she alleges is the product of that brief rendezvous, is not yours.”

“Precisely.” He was becoming a little tired of answering the same question. No matter how many times she threw it at him, the answer was always going to be the same.

“How? How can you be so positive about that?”

“Because, like you, I learned in health class that a baby is conceived between a man and a woman when, during sex, the man ejaculates. Sperm meets egg. Egg is fertilized by sperm and voila! You have the beginnings of a baby.” He was beginning to feel like a biology professor. Had this woman been absent that day when the birds and the bees were explained? “But this did not happen when she and I had sex.”

Unconsciously, Shuichi’s grip tightened around Eiri’s hand. He was really beginning to hate that word: sex.

“What do you mean, by ‘this did not happen’?”

Really? Did he actually have to continue to spell it out for her? Seriously. “What I mean is that, yes, we had sex, but no, I did not ejaculate and even if I had, I would still be 100% positive that this child isn’t mine.”

“And once again I ask, how? How can you be so certain?”

“Because five years ago, I had a vasectomy.” God, he could not believe that he had to admit to something like that on national television.

Ajibana appeared to have been taken back at the confession. “A-A vas--ectomy?”

Shuichi could not stop the smirk from spreading across his face. Their interviewer who had acted as if she had known everything seemed to be at a loss. She was almost as pale and sickly looking as Tohma had been when they’d told him this morning. He was forced to cover his chuckle with a cough.

Eiri shot him an amused glance. The corner of his lips twitched in reaction. “Yes.”

“Well, uhm.” She cleared her throat violently. Shuichi suspected it was an attempt to stall. “And for those who don’t know what that is, can you explain what that means?”

“Of course. A vasectomy is when the tubes that carry sperm into your semen are cut and sealed.”

Ajibana had gone from looking as if she had seen a ghost to having the appearance of a boiled lobster. Shuichi had the distinct feeling that she had never been part of a discussion where certain aspects of the male anatomy were discussed so vividly. Just being here to witness her embarrassment was worth having to endure this public ridicule.

“So, basically,” she was saying in a slow, soft tone, “you’re saying that you cannot have children.”

Eiri shook his head. “I didn’t say that. What I am saying is that the only way I can have children is with the help of modern science.”

Shuichi nodded. Their daughter Sayo, like Eiri said earlier, had been conceived through in vitro fertilization with the help of a surrogate mother who Tohma had been able procure for them, which, given how the man felt about their relationship and about him in particular, did not make much sense. Maybe he still argued against them being together more out of principle than anything? Either way, whosever’s sperm was actually responsible for the conception of their daughter was unknown because it had been a blind insemination. Only a paternal DNA test would solve this mystery, but it was one that would remain unsolved as far as both of them were concerned.

“And if by some chance this child is mine as she claims,” Eiri was saying, “then that means someone at the sperm bank where I stored my sperm before the procedure did something they were not supposed to. Her claim will be investigated thoroughly and the appropriate parties will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

Ajibana opened her mouth to speak, but clearly was in too much shock to say anything, for she closed her mouth without saying anything.

Eiri sat back. Glancing lovingly at Shuichi- his best friend, his partner, his love, his husband, his soul mate- he entwined their hands together. With a smile, he gave his hand a squeeze. Without a single word being said between them, with that small action, an entire conversation passed.

Thank you for being here. Sorry you had to endure this.

I love you, Eiri. I’m here because I want to be. We’ll get through this together.

“S-So,” Ajibana’s weak voice broke into their thoughts. She seemed to gain strength the more she spoke. “So you’re saying that Ms. Chiharu is lying? That her claims of you being the father of her daughter are false?”

With a sharp nod of his head, Eiri agreed with her assessment. “That is correct.”

“But why would she come forward with a claim such as this that could be easily proven false?’

Eiri lifted a shoulder listlessly. “Who knows. Maybe she was under the impression that I’d just accept her claims without question. Maybe she believed that I would settle matters with her privately.”

“Like a monetary settlement in order to silence her?” Ajibana assumed.

“Perhaps.” Eiri was not going to say for certain either way what this woman’s intentions were in announcing on national television that he was the father of her daughter. It was entirely possible that she was just mentally unstable. That seemed much more likely. When you had a celebrity being accused of a crime, the matter had to be handled with kid gloves, for nothing more than the very real fact that the probability was higher that the one pointing the finger was after something other than justice. That was not to say that was the case one-hundred percent of the time, but it did happen.

It sounded to Shuichi that with this sudden turn of events, their interviewer had had a sudden change of heart. Some people just made no sense. Wasn’t it supposed to be “innocent until proven guilty”?

Then it happened. He went stiff when she turned to regard him as he sat at Eiri’s side.

Damn.

“Shuichi was not aware that I had the procedure done,” Eiri spoke up quickly before Ajibana could open her mouth.

In gratitude, Shuichi gave their clasped hands a squeeze.

“Are you saying you did it without his knowledge?”

Eiri shook his head. “I had the procedure done before I ever met Shuichi,” he corrected.

“What would lead someone to have something like a vasectomy done at such a young age? You were only, what, twenty-two when you and Mr. Shindou met?”

This was one line of questioning in which Eiri refused to be part of. The person he’d been when he met Shuichi was not the person he was now. The man he‘d been back then hadn’t wanted to get close to anyone. That would lead to the eventuality of mutual feelings forming. There would be an attachment and the possibility of falling in love. Love meant a whole new can of worms. He just hadn’t wanted to leave a legacy behind. But that was then and this was now. Actually, he’d been looking into seeing if he could have the procedure reversed.

But that was not something that she need be privy to.

“Each man has his own reasons,” he said aloud. Hopefully she would be satisfied with that answer.

She appeared to be on the verge of pushing for a more clear answer, but a motion from a woman behind one of the cameramen, she was the show’s producer, stopped her in her tracks. “Has this scandal affected your relationship with Mr. Shindou at all?” she asked instead.

Of course. This was the one question all of Japan wanted to know. “No,” he confessed without any hesitation. Eiri glanced over at Shuichi, who smiled softly and gave their entwined hands a gentle squeeze. “Like I said,” he continued, turning to face their interviewer once again, “my infidelity was something that happened years ago. We dealt with it and moved on.”

Ajibana nodded. “Do you think this will affect your reputation with your fans or your book sales? And what about Mr. Shindou. He is already on the outs with many of his fans after the news broke that he quit Bad Luck in order to form a new band. Torture is nothing like Bad Luck, right? Bad Luck was a pop band and Torture is a metal/rock band. The sudden change seems to have given many Shuichi Shindou fans whiplash. Do you think the fallout of this scandal will have any affect on him? Maybe anger what remaining fans he has?”

Shuichi was confused. What was she talking about? Quit Bad Luck? Formed a new band? On the outs? Nothing she was saying made any sense.

Eiri went cold. His golden gaze narrowed. Here was another chick who was trying to stir up trouble. What was it with the supposedly “fairer” sex? Where was she getting her information from? The tabloids? There was not a single truth in anything she said. Someone with her reputation should know better than to dig up information about someone from such sleazy trash. They cared nothing about the truth; just about money. That was what scandals did for them. They raked in the cash.

It was only when he felt light tapping on the back of his hand that he realized that in his fury, he had tightened his grip and nearly crushed Shuichi’s hand as a result. He gently squeezed the smaller hand within his in apology.

“First of all,” he spoke up. His voice was tight and low. “I could care less what happens to my reputation or if people stop buying my books as a result of something that happened four or five years ago and has absolutely nothing to do with them. Shuichi’s opinion is the only one that concerns me. It’s people right to think what they will. There is going to be some people who want nothing more to do with me after today and then there are going to be those who could care less about what I do or don’t do in the privacy of my own home.” He shrugged. “Each to their own.”

“And what about Mr. Shindou? Do you-?”

This woman appeared too eager to start something. “Look, there are going to be those who are going to criticize Shuichi for staying with me after I cheated on him. That’s a given. What I did was stupid and inexcusable and very nearly could have cost me everything. But for the sake of our daughter and the love he still held for me despite my stupidity, Shuichi was willing to forgive me and give me a second chance instead of turning his back on me and the five years we have been together.”

“But-?”

Eiri found it was becoming increasingly difficult to not jump up off the couch and leap across the stage at their interviewer.

“I did not quit Bad Luck in order to form a new band,” Shuichi spoke up for the first time. His voice was soft and calm in contrast to that of Eiri’s, who appeared on the verge of snapping. He always did have a short fuse. That was something he has been trying to get Eiri to work on.

“Shu…”

Shuichi gave Eiri’s hand a soft squeeze. “Hiro and Suguru and I…” He felt a lump form in his throat.

Eiri gaze his hand a squeeze. You can do this.

“Things happen. We grew apart. They wanted to take things one way while I headed in another. That’s just the way it is. It happens.”

“What about Torture?”

When had this become about him? He thought they were here to discuss Eiri‘s supposed love-child. “They are a group of really good guys who just happened to rent space across from me in the building where I have my studio. We started talking one day and became really good friends. We’d jam from time to time. They actually helped me when I was putting together Atrevido.”

“I didn’t know that,” Eiri said.

“I thought I told you.”

“No.”

“Oh, well, I wanted some input and they volunteered their opinions.” Shuichi shrugged. It’d actually been a big help to him, though they would claim they did nothing.

“But what about your fans?” Ajibana interjected. “Don‘t you think they feel betrayed-?”

“Why would they?” Eiri barked out.

Keeping his left hand sandwiched between Eiri’s, Shuichi threaded his right arm through Eiri’s and pillowed his head on his shoulder. “Look, Ms. Ajibana, I did not set out to start a new band. They were the ones who asked me to join them after their old lead singer quit suddenly. It was not an easy decision to make for either of us. Bad Luck had already disbanded by then. I had been dropped by NG Productions and had signed onto Sony. With the release and success of Atrevido, I was an established solo artist totally independent from my past.”

Just that fact alone should be enough to remind Ajibana and the others like her that his fans had not abandoned him. Guess she forgot that little fact.

“Like I said,” Shuichi continued, “we were great friends already and we’d have fun jamming from time to time. So it was just natural. As for the question if this ‘scandal’, as you put it, will have some affect on us…” He shrugged. “I couldn’t say either way. Like Eiri said, there will be those people who will be angered over the fact that I did not dump Eiri the second I found out about the affair. They’ll say that if he did it once he’ll do it again. The fact of the matter is, I did forgive him and I did give him a second chance and I let him know in no uncertain terms that if he ever cheated on me again, I’d dump his ass so fast, it’ll make his head spin. And seeing there was no pre-nuptial…Well, I made damn sure he knows that I will drain his bank account dry with alimony and child support.”

Eiri gulped. Funny, he did not remember that conversation, but he was not about to second-guess what Shuichi was saying. He knew with absolute certainty that he would do exactly as he was threatening. And without having to ask, he had a feeling that Shuichi was saying that the same could be said if their positions were reversed, not that he had any misgivings about Shuichi cheating on him any time soon. Shuichi was faithful to him to the core. What happened between him and that friend of his (what the hell was his name again?) had not been his fault. That bastard had taken advantage of Shuichi in a moment of weakness.

It looked as if Ajibana was going to once again press the issue but that same woman who had not moved an inch from her position behind the cameramen made a motion with her hands.

Both Eiri and Shuichi breathed an inward sigh of relief.

With a bright smile, Ajibana slid to the edge of her chair and turned towards the central camera, “I would like to thank my guests, Mr. Eiri Yuki and Mr. Shuichi Shindou for being here today.” She turned back towards them and inclined her head.

They returned the gesture.

“See you tomorrow. Bye.”

When the light above the camera blinked off, both Eiri and Shuichi breathed sighs of relief.

Hopefully that would be the end of that, but only time would tell.

 

**...To Be Continued…**


	50. The Requiem Mass in D Minor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years later and while some things never change, others have and there are some changes that are so drastic, nothing will ever be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The title of this final chapter is taken from a piece by Mozart that was left unfinished when the composer died on 5 December 1791.
> 
> For more info on the song go to: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Requiem_(Mozart)
> 
> If you want to listen to the song, just go to youtube and do a search for "Requiem Mass in D Minor".

* * *

**Chapter 50: The Requiem Mass in D Minor**

**Two Years Later**

Draping the towel around his shoulders, Shuichi Shindou padded barefoot out of the bathroom to stand before the vanity in the dressing room off the master bedroom in the condominium he shared with the man he has been in love with since he was eighteen years old and their two daughters: six year old Sayo Ai Uesugi and seven month old Kura Eri Uesugi. With a second towel secured around his waist and water droplets glistening on his shoulders from his shower, he studied his reflection in the mirror. Eyes just as violet as ever took in asymmetrical layered hair as black as the embedded obsidian in his wedding ring.

In the years since he met Eiri that faithful day while taking a short cut through the park on the way home from work, so much has happened. It seems as if the turmoil they have gone through should show somehow and yet the person staring back at him did not seem to have changed. How was that possible that he still looked like that geeky eighteen year old whose tongue hadn’t been able to work properly when the blond haired, blond eyed god appeared from out of the shadows (though he had a feeling Eiri would make a perverted comment about how his tongue seemed to be working pretty fine to him) despite the numerous ups and downs that have taken place?

“Baka,” barked Eiri.

Startled, Shuichi jumped at the unexpected sound of his husband‘s voice. With a hand over his racing heart, he cursed softly at his jumpiness.

“You drown or what?”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. He was tempted to say yes. “Be out in a sec.”

From the other side of the closed bathroom door, Eiri scoffed. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Did not!”

“Whatever. Just hurry up, otherwise Sayo’s going to be late for school.”

And Eiri said that he over exaggerated. They still had plenty of time. “Whatever,” he muttered as he reached for the green tube of hair gel. He squirted a small amount into his palm, rubbed his hands together and then combed the gel through his hair with his fingers. After washing his hands, he grabbed his comb and ran it through his hair.

There came the sound of running footsteps. They grew closer and then stopped. “Papa,” cried their daughter’s voice. “Kura needs a diaper change! She’s all stinky.”

When he heard Eiri grumble, he snickered. He could just picture those golden eyes he loved so much glaring holes into the bathroom door. Eiri absolutely hated changing diapers.

Where had the time gone? Sayo was now six years old and in kindergarten. She even had her very first boyfriend. To say that Eiri was not too pleased with that development would be a gross understatement. It seemed like just yesterday when they were bringing her home from the hospital. Their precious baby girl was growing up right before their eyes.

Shuichi’s eyes grew misty.

The very first day of school, Sayo had insisted that she could walk by herself because she was a big girl now. She argued that her best friend Kioshi who lived several floors below them was going to be walking to school by herself. So why couldn’t she?

Unfortunately, that was true. Kioshi’s parents were attorneys who had their own law firm. They had a tendency to forget they had a daughter, which was why she spent more time at their house than at her own home. Sometimes it’d felt as if they had two daughters (three after Kura was born).

Sayo did not want to be the only one whose parents walked her to school. She wasn’t a baby. That had upset him greatly. His baby didn’t need him anymore? Of course, Eiri called him an idiot for crying over something so asinine, but then he goes and tells Sayo that they were going to be taking her to school and that if Kioshi wanted to walk with them then that was fine. Eiri used the “for her own safety because she did have famous parents and there might be people out there who might try to get to them through her” excuse. Eiri was so full of shit sometimes. If it was “for her own good”, then how come he started weeping when Sayo walked through those gates, claiming she could walk the rest of the way by herself? When Shuichi had pointed out that he was crying, Eiri claimed he just had something in his eye.

Ya right.

As he ran his comb through his long damp locks, their came the sudden sound of crying followed by Eiri’s angry reprimanding voice.

Uh oh.

Sayo was so excited over being a big sister that she tended to forget that Kura was only seven months old.

When he and Eiri reluctantly agreed to be on Ajibana in order to try to dispel the rumors that Chiharu Yokuratoh was alleging, Eiri’d announced the two of them were trying to have a second child. The people of Japan were not the only ones caught off guard by that admission. Yes, they had been discussing it, but no decisions had been made one way or another. At least none that he had known about. He had always wondered if being accused of fathering a bastard child had been the catalyst that pushed Eiri into finally making that decision.

A week after Sayo started school, at five seconds passed midnight, their second daughter Kura was born. As Eiri said, Mai Yushigaki had readily agreed to be their surrogate once again. This surprised Shuichi. Seeing as she was Suguru’s mother’s cousin’s daughter and was still working at NG Productions as a sound engineer, he thought she would have opted out. He would not have blamed her for that decision.

Unlike when Sayo was conceived, it had taken several attempts for Mai to become pregnant the second time around, which was natural according to the experts, but that assurance had not stopped both of them from worrying.

Setting the comb down on the vanity, he walked across the dressing room to the built-in storage cabinets in search of the hairdryer. Finally finding it buried at the bottom beneath the stack of hand towels (how it got there he was not sure), he walked back to the vanity and plugged it into the outlet above the sink. Turning it on, a blast of hot air slammed into his face. As he dried his hair, the smile slipped from his face and his merriment vanished.

As much as either of them despised admitting it, Ajibana had been right in several of her assumptions.

The day the interview was aired, he received quite a bit of flack, mostly from women, about deciding to stay with Eiri instead of dumping his two timing ass after learning that he had cheated on him. They had greatly approved of the strict conditions he’d laid out though. He wondered what these women would say if they were to learn that Eiri was not the only one guilty of being unfaithful.

The fact that Yoshio had decided not to come forward about their little tryst had surprised him. Though he was glad his childhood friend had remained silent on the subject. One scandal at a time was his limit.

Sales of Eiri’s books had dropped slightly. It hadn’t been a very noticeable drop. It was not as if people started boycotting him, but it was enough to start worrying his editor who had thrown a conniption, but then she pulled a one-eighty when sales increased not too long later. She had been all smiles then.

Whatever.

Either way, neither he nor Eiri cared what other people thought. If they did, they would not have stayed together as long as they had.

His parents had been furious: at Eiri for not only his infidelity, but for not even remembering what the woman he’d slept with looked like, for not knowing what her name was and then for claiming that she’d meant nothing to him. Then they had been angry with him for “allowing the infidelity to occur in the first place”. They both had received quite a tongue-lashing. Then a week later, Eiri’s father had shown up unannounced on their doorstep and really let Eiri have it. Mr. Uesugi had then apologized to him for his “sorry excuse of a son” and announced that he was going to spend the whole day spoiling the grandchild that he rarely saw.

Replacing the hairdryer into the closet and then flinging the towel into the hamper, Shuichi padded out of the dressing room and into the master bedroom’s walk-in closet. He pulled on a pair of blue jeans with a black cross etched onto the back pockets and a black hoodie with an etched skull over the left breast and silver studs around the front pockets. Then he strolled out of the closet to the dresser to slip on his contacts.

Unlike their parents, Maiko had kept her opinions to herself, mostly because he’d told her the whole story years ago.

She and Gina were still together. They had even moved in together last year. Maiko had finally gathered the courage to tell their parents about Gina, but only after some paparazzo had somehow managed to sneak into the high-class restaurant where he and Eiri and she and Gina where having dinner together.

Like brother like sister.

Their parents had not been as understanding as they had been when he came out. It had taken a little time, but they eventually did come around.

“Baka, you ready yet?” barked the sudden voice from behind him.

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder and smiled at his sour faced husband. “Yeah,” he said. He grabbed his sunglasses and clipped them onto the collar of his shirt. As he followed Eiri out of the bedroom and down the short hall into the dining room, he grabbed his cellphone that was sitting on the nightstand.

“Let’s go Sayo! Bakugan’s going to have to wait. Time to go,” Eiri announced as he skirted the dining table on his way to the entrance hall.

“Okay!”

Shuichi snickered at his daughter’s enthusiasm. If it were him, he would be bitching and moaning the whole time.

Sayo slid off the sofa and turned off the television by pressing the button on the television set.

Shuichi ruffled her hair as they passed by each other: she towards the foyer (with a scowl and a “hey” as she tried to fixed her messed up hair) and he to grab Kura who was sound asleep in the swing with a binki in her mouth.

“Hurry Daddy,” Sayo told him as she sat down on the step in the entrance hall to put on her shoes. Afterwards, Eiri helped her with her red ramose backpack.

“I’m coming,” Shuichi told her.

When he stopped the swing, Kura immediately began to grumble. He made soft shushing noises to calm her. She was just like Eiri. Once asleep, she absolutely forbade anyone from coming within five hundred meters of her. When Mika discovered her niece had inherited this trait, she had grumbled, “Dear God that is all we need: another Eiri.” He actually found it to be kinda cute. He carefully maneuvered the raven-haired seven-month-old out of the swing and carried her through the condominium to meet Eiri and Sayo who were waiting for him by the front door. Eiri had the stroller ready and waiting. He gently settled his daughter in. After securing her within the stroller, he followed his eager little beaver to the elevator.

Sayo pressed the call button. “I pressed it Daddy,” she grinned at him proudly.

“Yes you did,” he replied with a light chuckle.

“She is definitely your daughter,” Eiri grumbled as he stepped up behind him.

Shuichi chuckled at that.

The silence of the hall was broken when the elevator announced its arrival with an unnaturally loud ping. The doors slid open and the four of them packed inside. Sayo pressed the button for the ground floor. The doors slid shut and with a jolt, the elevator started descending.

Shuichi unhooked his sunglasses and right as he was about to slip them on, a marque on his right wrist caught his attention. He pushed back the sleeve of his hoodie. In black scrawling Vivaldi font across his wrist was tattooed “Bad Luck”.

He wished things could have been different. It pained him to this day that events had played out as they had. He still considered Hiro his best friend and they did speak from time to time, but it was more the politeness of strangers who were at the same bus stop every morning. No, that did not sound right. While their relationship was drastically different from what it used to be, it had not been reduced to strangers meeting in the night, though it felt like that sometimes. There was that awkwardness and uncertainty between them. That bond they forged back when they were children was no longer there except in memories.

While he had yet to speak with Suguru, Hiro assured him he was doing fine.

Apparently, Mr. K had gone back to the States to spend some time with his wife and son. Last Hiro heard, Mr. K had gone to work for Rage at XMR Records.

Mr. Sakano was helping to produce a new pop band that just signed with the NG Productions label. The trio calling themselves “Astray” were second year high school students. The lead singer was so hyperactive they had to scrape him off the ceiling on a daily basis, he had bright bubblegum pink hair and there were rumors that he was gay.

You did not need to be a genius guitarist to read that message.

Calling themselves Night Train, Hiro and Suguru released their sophomore album this past summer to rave reviews. It hit number one a week later and stayed there for five weeks. Tickets for their tour set to begin in a couple of weeks went on sale last month and were sold out two days later.

Their debut album won them best blues album at the World Music Awards last year. They had performed their song “Nights Are Too Long” that featured vocals by Michael Bublé. He had to admit they were good.

That same year, his solo debut album won him several awards at the World Music Awards, one of them being best dance album. He had performed his single “Vida”, which had then gone on to become an international hit. Though he had been in the same venue as his ex-band mates, he hadn’t said a single word to either of them or them to him.

“You alright, baby?”

Pulled out of his thoughts by Eiri’s soft concerned voice, Shuichi yanked his sleeve back over the tattoo. “Yeah,” he smiled over his shoulder.

The elevator came to a halt with a heart-stopping jolt. There was another ping right before the doors slid open. Sayo darted out with Eiri hot on her heels.

“Hi Kioshi,” he heard her cry.

Shuichi stepped out of the elevator pushing the stroller with a sleeping Kura within.

Holding hands, Sayo and her best friend Kioshi were skipping down the sidewalk singing at the top of their lungs. He had to chuckle at the sight. Eiri followed closely behind them in his signature black trench and with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips while he followed at a more sedate pace.

He had received a call not too long ago from Hiro. Apparently Night Train was up for the same award at this year‘s World Music Awards. Unless their flight was delayed, they should have left early this morning.

Torture was up for several awards themselves for their debut album Black Friday. They were scheduled to leave for Monaco tomorrow afternoon along with Eiri, Sayo, Kura and his mother who was coming along as babysitter.

The last thing he’d wanted to do was agree with Ajibana, but there’d been no helping it. He had been worried about how his fans would react to his new band. They had accepted him as a solo artist readily enough, but joining a new band, especially one whose sound was a complete one-eighty from anything he had ever released as either part of Bad Luck or as a solo artist? He had been a little apprehensive to say the least. Turns out he needn’t have. Instead, he should have listened to Eiri, who‘d told him that he would have nothing to worry about. No surprise, it turned out he was right.

Black Friday was released to mixed reviews last winter. Though most critics slammed it (mostly because he, Shuichi Shindou, was involved in something non-pop, non-Eurodance related), it was well received by music fans. There were those who stayed loyal to him when he left Bad Luck to go solo. There were those new fans he acquired when he released his solo album, Atrevido, and now there were the new fans who loved Torture. Since its release, Black Friday has sold nearly five million copies.

Tohma Seguchi was not speaking to him. He had a feeling the CEO and president of NG Productions was feeling a bit miffed about the turn of events.

Oh, well.

Before he knew it, they were at Sayo’s school. She gave them each a quick hug and then she was gone without so much as a backward glance.

As they started back home, a wave of sorrow washed over him. He grew misty eyed. His throat closed around a sob.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Clearing his throat violently, Shuichi shook off the mysterious feelings of melancholy and turned to regard Eiri. “What?”

Eiri studied his lithe baka quietly for several long seconds before turning on his heel with a, “Nothing. Let’s go,” thrown over his shoulder. “You have a meeting you’re going to be late for.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes at his husband’s back.

“Saw that.”

“Saw what?” Shuichi questioned innocently.

“Baka,” Eiri muttered.

Shuichi giggled.

 

* * *

 

It was late evening by the time the meeting finally managed to wrap up. Dog tired and practically asleep on his feet, Shuichi dragged himself from the black, tinted windowed SUV to the enclosed entrance of his building.

“Night,” he said over a yawn.

“Night, Mr. Shindou,” his driver called after him.

The final arrangements for their trip to Monaco for the World Music Awards had been made. Since there were no direct flights to Monaco, they were flying out of Narita International Airport at quarter to one in the afternoon and would arrive at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, France at fifteen minutes passed five. They would then take a connecting flight from there to Nice, France. At eight that night, local time, fifteen hours and fifteen minutes would have passed since they left Tokyo. From Nice, they opted to transfer to the train for the rest of the journey to Monaco.

Now all they had to do was get a good night’s rest and make sure they arrived early tomorrow for their flight.

Between eight o’clock at night and six o’clock in the morning, the building could only be entered by entering a security code in the security panel besides the front entrance. Each code was unique to each condominium within the building. After six o’clock in the morning until eight that evening, you could only enter if you either had a key or were buzzed in by either whomever was at the security desk or by someone residing within the building.

Shuichi’s fingers danced over the keys of the panel. He knew he entered the code right when there was a droning buzz.

“See ya in morning,” he called to his driver who had remained standing at attention between him and the SUV.

The man inclined his head.

With a yawn, Shuichi crossed the silent lobby to the elevator bank. As he pressed the call button, he realized that nobody was at the security desk. Strange. There was always someone at the desk. It did not matter what the time of day, or night, it was. It did not matter if it was a national holiday. Someone was always in attendance. The elevator doors slid open. He stepped inside and pressed the button for his floor, still wondering where everyone was. The doors slid shut. With a jolt, the elevator started to ascend.

He was really getting sick and tired of that.

Torture’s manager had received the tentative schedule from the producers of the award show that broke down and outlined what they should expect at the ceremony. Until they actually arrived at the venue where the ceremony was to take place, there was only so much they could do, only so much they could rehearse, but they did what they could.

Once the elevator arrived at his floor, Shuichi pushed away from the back wall with another yawn. He stepped out of the car and started down the short hall to his door, digging within his messenger bag for his house keys.

“Mr. Shindou.”

Startled, Shuichi’s head snapped up and around. “Mr. Seguchi,” he breathed in shock as his blond haired ex-boss stepped around the far corner. “What are you-?”

Stepping forward, Tohma removed his signature black profelt padre hat and lowered his gaze to the carpeted floor under his feet as he tried to organize his thoughts. The hall lights reflected on his black dress shoes that had been shined to perfection.

When Tohma received that call earlier, once he got over the initial shock and the denial that followed, he started going over and over again in his head what he was going to say. He thought he finally had what he was going to say down, but coming face to face with his wife’s little brother’s lover and an ex-employee for the first time in as many years was like a deleted computer file. It was still there somewhere, but in jumbled pieces.

Shuichi’s violet gaze narrowed. “Mr. Seguchi?”

Why was the man so quiet?

He did not like this. What was the man doing here? They had not spoken in over two years, so what was he doing here now?

When they first met, Tohma used to be civil to him, but then everything changed after Eiri was hospitalized for vomiting blood that first time. It did not matter that the incident stemmed from the stomach ulcer that developed after Eiri was gang raped when he was sixteen. All Tohma saw was that being with him meant that Eiri was reliving what had been a hellish experience, an experience best left dormant and forgotten. Forget the fact that something as life changing as being sexually assaulted never went away no matter how much you ignored it. It was always there, lying just under the surface, waiting for the perfect moment--the perfect opportunity to strike. Tohma Seguchi has been trying ever since to vacate him from the premises of one Eiri Yuki Uesugi. The more Tohma failed to separate them, the angrier Tohma became with him, the closer he and Eiri became and the farther apart Tohma and Eiri grew.

Shuichi watched as his brother-in-law fiddled with his hat. This was a first. He had never seen him so nervous.

Something did not feel right.

Finally, Tohma raised his head.

Shuichi did not like what he saw when he gazed into those malachite green eyes. He suddenly felt sick.

 

* * *

 

For the first time all day, Eiri was able to relax.

There was no end to the turmoil the third installment in his fantasy epic was causing him. Part of him regretted ever having decided to try something new. The deadline was looming closer and he was not even close to being finished.

If it was not his writing (or lack there of) that was giving him a headache, it was something else. He loved his husband and his daughters to death, but sometimes they could be, well, annoying. But, thankfully, both Sayo and Kura were sound asleep and the brat was at work.

For the first time in a long time, the house was blissfully silent. He reveled in the peacefulness.

Throwing himself onto the sofa, he flung his arms out along the back of the sofa and dropped his head back with a grateful sigh. His eyes fluttered closed. Now he knew what heaven was.

But it was too quiet.

His eyes popped open with a curse.

Sitting up, he reached for the remote on the coffee table and turned on the television. He started flipping through the channels. There was absolutely nothing on. It was no wonder he hardly watched TV. As he was passing the million and one twenty-four hour news channels, something on the screen caught his attention.

“-just joining us,” the salt and pepper haired news anchor was saying. “An Air France airbus out of Narita International Airport heading to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, France went down in the Sea of Japan mere hours after takeoff this morning-”

The remote slipped from his numb grip. It dropped through the air and smashed into the hardwood floor. The backing popped off. The batteries spilled out and rolled across the living room floor.

 

* * *

 

He was lying.

“No.”

He shook his head.

It was not true.

“No.”

He took a step backward.

It wasn’t!

“No.”

He sobbed.

It wasn’t.

The first tear slipped down his pale face.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shindou--Shuichi. This was not…” Tohma struggled with the words. He had never been good at these types of things. He just did not know what to say at a time like this. Yes, he and Shuichi have had their troubles. Neither particularly cared for the other. Their separation had not been on the most amicable of terms. But he would not wish something like this on his worst of enemies.

Shuichi felt his knees wobbling.

He did not want to believe it. He could not believe it. He kept shaking his head. Back and forth. Over and over again.

“Stop it,” he whispered.

He did not want to hear anymore.

Tohma was just saying these things to hurt him. He was always saying and doing things to get to him.

“They’re not sure what happened yet. They’re speculating that-”

“Stop it,” Shuichi cried louder. The tears were flowing freely down his cheeks now. His sobs were filling the silence of the hallway. “Just--stop it.” His bag had slipped off his shoulder and was lying abandoned on the floor between them. “Stop it.” His knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

A lump in his throat, Tohma gazed sadly down at the younger man. The stoic mask he usually worn had crumbled hours ago, the pieces now dust blown about by the wind. For the life of him, he could not even begin to speculate what Shuichi was going through. He had never been as close to Suguru (even though he was his cousin) or Hiro as Shuichi had been.

This was not how he’d wanted to renew his relationship with the singer.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to the heart broken man.

 

* * *

 

“There were no survivors,” the news anchor was saying.

Trembling, Eiri stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the television screen.

Less than five minutes ago, he would have laughed in your face if you had asked him if he believed in Fate or Destiny. If something happened, it happened. If something did not happen then it did not happen. Simple as that. Why did there have to be some guiding force butting its head into things that did not concern it? But now…

If the events of the past five years would have played out just a little differently…

If there would not have been all that infighting within Bad Luck…

If Shuichi had not decided to leave Bad Luck in order to go solo…

If Shuichi had not decided to become the lead singer of Torture…

If Shuichi would have decided to instead work things out with Hiro and Suguru…

If he would not have forced Shuichi to wait until the weekend so that they could fly out to Monaco together so that Sayo did not have to miss any more school than she was going to be…

If…

If…

If…

…His lithe baka…His Shuichi…He would…He would have been on that plane.

Eiri chocked back a sob. Tears stung his eyes.

Just one choice. That was all it would have taken. If Shuichi would have done one thing differently…

 

**…The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The part where Shuichi suddenly feels sad for seemingly no reason at all actually happened to me. I was at work when I suddenly felt as if I was going to cry. I shook it off and felt fine the rest of the day. Later that evening when I got home, there was a message on the answering machine. My grandfather had passed away. 
> 
> A/N 2: I’m not sure if the Profelt Padre hat (otherwise known as the Amish hat) is the actual hat Tohma wears, but it’s the closest one I could find that looks like the one he wears.


End file.
